


I of the Storm

by DontKillBugs, RhapsodicSongbird



Series: Ranma Lazuli [2]
Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Absolutely contains Nabiki-bashing, Anger Management, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Does not contain Akane-bashing, Does not contain Shampoo-bashing, Eventual shamkane, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Happosai is fucking dead, Non-Linear Narrative, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please read the Author's Note, Queer Themes, Ranma does not appear, Self-Loathing, curse locking, full body cat tongue, lots of flashbacks, queer positive, standalone sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26928565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontKillBugs/pseuds/DontKillBugs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhapsodicSongbird/pseuds/RhapsodicSongbird
Summary: Two years after Ranma left Nerima without saying goodbye, Akane is still right where she was: the sole heir to a Dojo in a town that never changes. Wondering on her place in life and the universe and grappling with feelings of guilt from the part she played in driving Ranma away, Akane wonders what to do next.Takes place in the same universe as my Ranma-Steven Universe crossover fanfic "Skies of Blue, Red Roses Too," although that is not required reading for this story.
Relationships: Mousse & Tendou Akane, Shampoo & Tendou Akane, Shampoo/Tendou Akane
Series: Ranma Lazuli [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892311
Comments: 47
Kudos: 87





	1. Stagnation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome! If you're joining me from the first volume of this series, welcome back, and if you're joining us for the first time, welcome aboard! When I was writing Skies of Blue, I knew pretty early on that I was gonna have to check back in with Akane and the rest of the Nerima Wrecking Crew at some point, and I knew it would have to be the first spinoff I explored.
> 
> I won't lie, this one won't be nearly as fluffy or fun as Skies of Blue. In fact, this is gonna be downright sad for a while. But I don't believe in sad endings, so hang on tight, and see what happens on the other end.
> 
> Now, something I want to clarify. When I posted Skies of Blue, I got a lot of comments accusing me of Akane-bashing. That was never my intention, and I apologize if I gave the impression that I was. I did portray Akane in a largely negative light in that story, but that was primarily because it was told from Ranma's viewpoint, addressing the damage Akane and the others had done to her. Even then, I had Ranma reach an understanding as to why Akane is the way she is, if not to the point of forgiveness.
> 
> I genuinely love Akane as a character. I think she's fascinating, funny, and wonderful when written well. Speaking as someone who has also struggled with anger issues, Akane is someone very close to my heart.
> 
> Do I think she and Ranma are good for each other? Absolutely not.
> 
> The two of them deliberately seek out to get under each other's skins, far more and worse than necessary. They bring out the worst in each other, and any relationship between them would be destined for only a sad ending. That doesn't mean neither of them deserve a happy ending, I just don't think it could be with each other.
> 
> I know I'm probably gonna make a few people angry with this fic. To be honest, that's fine. This fic is primarily intended as catharsis, for me, my sister, and anyone else who left Ranma 1/2 with an unpleasant taste in their mouth from how some characters were treated, in-universe and out.
> 
> With that, thank you for clicking, and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains themes of guilt and unhealthy feelings and expressions of self-loathing throughout. Please use your own best judgement before reading.

**_Tokyo, Japan_ **

**_The Nerima Ward_ **

**_August_ **

****

The sun was sweltering overhead. The past few weeks had been an unbearable scorcher.

Akane Tendo, age 23, sat on a bench on the sidewalk, fanning her sweating face with one hand as she stared out at the hot asphalt of the street. Somewhere nearby, a cicada sang loudly.

Behind her, Ucchan’s sat empty. Doors locked, lights off, seats and tables removed.

 **FOR SALE,** the big sign in the window screamed.

 **Sold,** the little sign plastered below it responded meekly.

They were gone. They were really gone. Left, just like so many people she knew had left Nerima.

~/~/~

It had been almost two years since Ranma had vanished.

It hadn’t even been anything climactic or dramatic. He had just walked out. Not even a good evening or a goodbye.

It wasn’t so unusual when he hadn’t come back that night. Ranma would sometimes take trips out of Tokyo, up to the mountains, to train solo. Unusual, but not impossible.

Akane hadn’t particularly cared at the time when he didn’t come back the next day, either. Not one of her prouder moments, in hindsight.

It hadn’t been until the third day, when Genma had finally gotten around to checking his email and his bank account balance, only to see exactly 500 yen staring back at him where there had been a few hundred thousand just the previous week, that the pieces had fallen into place.

Not much could compel Genma Saotome to get off his tuchus and get to work on something, but the vanishing of several years’ worth of hard-scammed money was certainly one of them. The police report he filed eventually turned up Ranma’s picture, taken on the camera of an ATM in Akihabara.

Nabiki put the word out to her contacts around Nerima, looking for information. Her unpleasant discovery of what had happened to her blackmail funds and materials was still several days away, so most still thought she was in charge of Nerima.

One of her contacts mentioned he had seen Ranma going into Ucchan’s.

Another mentioned that they had seen Ranma getting on a train heading into Tokyo, about a half hour before Genma’s funds had been withdrawn.

The trail had died there. Nabiki’s reach, as it was, stopped less than a mile out of Nerima.

Ranma had essentially vanished into the world, with nothing but the clothes on his back.

~/~/~

Akane rose from the bench, stretching, feeling her T-shirt sticking to her back. For what had to be the hundredth time in ten minutes, she leaned close to the window of Ucchan’s, shading her eyes with her hands as she peered it, looking for some hint that this was all a dumb misunderstanding.

Nothing. There was no sign of life inside the restaurant.

Akane glanced around at the quiet backstreet, scanning for any prying eyes, before quickly stepping over in front of the door.

_“Se, no-“_

She wrenched the doorknob to the left hard, breaking the latch with her massive strength, just as she had the last time she’d left this place. She stopped where she was, waiting for a burglar alarm to go off.

None did. Either the realtor had neglected to set it before leaving, or it never had one at all.

Akane pushed the ruined door open, stepping out of the heat into the blessedly cool darkness. She stopped at the counter, resting one hand on the cool surface.

The place was just as empty as it had looked from outside. No sign of Ukyo or Konatsu.

She leaned over the counter, peering into the kitchen. It was just as deserted. The place was hardly recognizable as the place she had shared so many memories with… people she had once called friends.

No, that was misleading. People who had once called _her_ a friend. The distinction and responsibility were important.

Unbidden, a memory floated to the surface, of

_sitting on one of Ukyo’s barstools in front of the counter, chewing idly on a fork as she watch Ranma bungle around on the other side of the counter._

_Various other customers talked amongst themselves at the tables or the bar. The delicious smell of frying pork and shrimp hung heavy in the air. Konatsu zipped from table to table, taking orders and clearing empty plates. Outside, rain thundered down, tapping against the windows._

_Next to Akane, Shampoo shifted in her seat, chuckling at Ranma’s struggles. Across the bar, Ukyo carefully held a knife in front of him, demonstrating the proper technique to his best friend. Ranma watched, nodding uncertainly._

_It was one of those rare days where everyone was getting along halfway decently. The weather had no one in the mood for the typical ambushes or attacks, so several members of the Nerima Wrecking Crew had taken shelter in Ucchan’s establishment._

_Ukyo was talking to Ranma. “Look, if you’re gonna gesture when using a knife, you gotta use your other hand. I know, it feels good to point with a knife, but it’s waaaay too dangerous. Like this-“ Ukyo held his hands about a foot apart from each other, moving his empty hand away from the one with a knife. “I caught a fish, thiiiiiis big!” He handed the knife back to Ranma, who mimicked Ukyo with her free hand. “Thiiiiis big.”_

_Shampoo laughed loudly at Akane’s side, her contagious optimism bringing a smile to Akane’s face. “Airen, we’ll make a chef of you yet!”_

_Smiling, Akane turned to glance at Ukyo as_

She shook her head, returning to the moment, this silent restaurant.

Ranma. Ukyo. Shampoo.

All three were gone now.

There was only her.

Akane tried the door leading up to the apartment above the restaurant, but that door was locked as well.

_Don’t bother. You’ve pushed your luck enough, breaking and entering. No point._

She sighed, turning away, before stopping just in front of the counter again, right in front of where she and Shampoo had sat, that rainy day a thousand years ago. Where Akane had stood when she called Ukyo a

_(“-little bitch-“)_

horrible word, during their last conversation, where she had insulted and misgendered both Ukyo and Konatsu, before storming off and not going near this place ever again.

Until today.

When she had heard that Ucchan’s had closed down, had been closed down for a month now and she hadn’t even known.

Akane hadn’t even heard about them leaving from anyone in particular. It had been mentioned in that morning’s newspaper, about the new restaurant that was moving into the old space.

Had anyone even noticed? It wasn’t like the Amazons were around anymore to speak on it one way or another, but… she, Nabiki, and Kasumi had all been friends with Ukyo, or at least on halfway decent terms.

Weren’t they?

Akane could hardly blame Ukyo and Konatsu for leaving. After Ranma had vanished, it was basically an open secret that they had helped him disappear. She, the Amazons, the Kunos, even Auntie Nodoka had hounded them for months, begging, demanding, threatening them, hoping to get the information on Ranma out of them.

Now they were gone.

Akane hadn’t even realized (or maybe just hadn’t acknowledged) how horrible she’d felt about her last conversation with Ukyo, until today, one the walk over here.

Yet another thing her temper had ruined.

Her eyes kept returning to that spot at the bar. This entire building was a reminder of everything she hated, but that one spot on the counter? It burned almost too much to look at.

Akane felt the familiar anger rise inside her, that acidic gorge in the pit of her stomach, delicious and addictive and horrible, all at the same time.

With an indistinct shout of anger, Akane raised her hand high and slammed her closed fist down on Ukyo’s abandoned countertop, where she and Shampoo had sat. With a loud _CRUNCH,_ the wooden bar splintered in two, the two halves pointing upward in a V-shape. Small fragments of wood pittered to the floor on and around her shoes. The air stank of ozone.

 _That’ll teach ‘em,_ the poisonous voice deep inside her snarked bitterly.

The silence wrapped around her once again, coating her, settling into the hollow pit of her stomach.

Akane sighed deeply, before slowly trudging outside, back into the sweltering heat. The air was humid now, dark clouds rumbling in the distance.

~/~/~

**_December, Two years ago_ **

**_One week after Ranma left_ **

****

_The train door slid open silently before her._

_Akane stood on the other side of the yellow line, staring into the train car._

_” **This train is bound for: Akihabara Station.”** The speaker droned above her._

_It would be easy to step aboard. She should. She should go after him. It might take a bit, but she could track Ranma down. She’d done it before. Give him a knock on the head, ask what the hell he was thinking, worrying everyone in Nerima, and drag the perv back home._

_She raised one foot to step aboard… and froze, her foot hanging in midair._

_No._

_She was being stupid. Impulsive._

_Ranma would come back. He always did. His whole life was here, in Nerima._

_And Akane didn’t want to worry Dad and Nabiki and Kasumi. If she vanished into the ether, they’d panic._

_And besides, she had the semester final in Professor Koji’s class tomorrow at the University. She couldn’t just walk away from her courses, not in her final year._

_Akane lowered her foot to the ground._

_The door slid closed silently._

_The train lurched out of the station, heading to Akihabara._

_Akane walked home, trying to ignore the pit in her stomach every time Ranma crossed her mind. A November evening slowly fell over Nerima as she walked through the weirdly quiet streets._

_Her key clicked in the lock as she slid the front door to the Tendo Home open. She slipped off her shoes as she stepped inside. “I’m ho-“_

_Her greeting died on her lips at the sounds coming from down the hall._

_Frantic, enraged screams. Nabiki’s voice. The sound of various hard objects striking walls and floor._

_Dad and Mr. Saotome were still out, probably drinking Dad’s latest town council paycheck away._

_Through the living room, she could see Kasumi, sitting on the back porch, stiff as a board, a cup of tea sitting forgotten next to her._

_Sparing her eldest sister only a brief glance, Akane quickly strode down the hall toward Nabiki’s room. As she approached, she realized Nabiki’s roars of anger had subsided. Now, there was only the sound of a low, pitchy laugh._

_Akane slowly slid Nabiki’s bedroom door open, not sure what to expect. “Nabs? What’s wrong?”_

_Nabiki’s room was in shambles. It seemed that everything she owned had been thrown in every direction, at every wall. Her clothes lay strewn over books and other assorted odds and ends. Her computer, the only thing untouched, had a jacket thrown over the monitor haphazardly, every pocket inside-out. Her mattress was halfway off the bedframe, the sheets a rat’s nest tangled around it._

_Nabiki sat on her knees on the floor, her feet sprawled in each direction. Her hands wrung each other in her lap, her body shaking with laughter. It was the kind of laughter of someone who had had their entire world fall out from under them, and their only options were to Laugh, Cry, or Go Crazy. Akane wasn’t sure which one Nabiki had decided to go with._

_Still chuckling, Nabiki pointed to the side. “He took everything. I’m ruined, Akane. I’m ruined.”_

_At the edge of Nabiki’s room sat a familiar lockbox, the one Nabiki hid behind her bookshelf, that she stored her Blackmail Cash Stash and Blackmail Evidence Binder in._

_The lockbox lay on one end, dented and empty. All of the bills were gone. The Evidence Binder lay open, a scant couple of petty blackmail dossiers in it, the kind that Nabiki would be lucky to get lunch money out of. The big earners, the ones that buffed Nabiki’s numbers, were gone._

_Nabiki limply held her arm upward toward Akane, a single photograph held loosely between her fingers. Akane took it from her, examining it, mesmerized._

_It was a photo of Ranma. Not one of the scantily-clad photoshoot sessions, but a junk photo Nabiki had snapped of him walking away along a wall, useless for any blackmail purposes._

_Written on the photo, over Ranma’s shoulder:_

**_BYE._ **

_Akane felt her stomach plummet as what she’d been adamantly denying for the past week finally hit home._

_Nabiki continued to laugh deliriously on the floor. “Ruined. I’m done. I’m done. I’m ruined.”_

~/~/~

The humidity made Akane sweat all the worse as she walked home. She glared up at the sky with a tired huff. “Geez, Mother Nature, give us a break already.”

She sighed bitterly, forcing her hands to unclench at her sides.

The problem was threefold:

  1. Angry Felt Good.
  2. She realized that was bad, and felt bad for enjoying anger so much.
  3. Feeling bad made her Angry.



Anger had a hold on her. It would course through her like lightning. In the moment, rage felt righteous. Burning bridges was satisfying, and the sharp bite of insults on her tongue was delicious.

Then, once the moment had passed and the anger had faded, the guilt would set in. The realization of the hurt she had just put someone (usually Ranma) through would burrow through her, leaving a hollow pit in her stomach.

Why did she say those things? Why would she do that? What was _wrong_ with her? Can’t you go one day without hurting people?

Inevitably, that guilt would simmer and boil back into a low anger, building pressure higher and higher until the dam burst, and spilled out at someone else once again.

Usually Ranma.

Akane remembered reading a quote once, long ago. She couldn’t remember who by. That resentment was taking a poison, and waiting for the other person to die.

_And how’d that plan turn out for you, dummy?_

Ranma was gone. Years of ups and downs in their engagement, all down the drain, with no one but Akane to blame for driving him away.

Doctor Tofu left years ago. Just a little while after Ranma came to Nerima. She was still a little embarrassed how long she had carried a flame for the older man- the misguided crushes of hormonal teens. She supposed she was lucky in retrospect he hadn’t reciprocated, but it still stung how unceremoniously he had left. He had taken a sabbatical for two weeks to visit his mother, and stayed away for seven years and counting now.

Yuka and Sayuri hadn’t spoken to her in three years, since a little after high school. They had been her best friends most of her childhood, and now they were gone too. She felt another familiar wave of guilt rise inside of her at the thought. She knew that they were also her fault… remembered that there had been a very vicious argument… but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what the topic of the argument had even been about.

She hoped it was something important.

Ukyo and Konatsu, now gone too. Years of their on-again off-again friendship, of Akane repeatedly misgendering Ukyo after he came out. Of never even bothering to properly use Konatsu’s correct pronouns.

Akane wasn’t proud of herself in the slightest for the outdated views she had only recently begun to discard. Years of the automatic response to same-sex couples being _Pervert!,_ and anything gender-related being the same.

Even after she had begun to privately open her mind to the idea of people changing their genders from the one they had been born to, how uniquely private and terrible and wonderful the experience must be…

…The anger would still spike, and twist her judgement.

A misgendering here. The word _Pervert_ there. Oh, you won’t give me what I want? I won’t use your pronouns right, how do you like them apples?

As it turned out, even Akane hated them apples.

As she turned the corner onto her home street, she paused, turning her head to the line of storefronts where, not so long ago, the Cat Café had been.

She felt a new spike of sadness in her chest as she stared at the front door.

~/~/~

_Mousse’s tongue poked out of his mouth as he gingerly moved the spring-loaded mechanism on the table before him backward, holding it open with one finger. His hair had been tied back, his voluminous sleeves rolled up and tied at his elbows. He began to use his other hand to sift through the small container of bolts and screws at his side. “Can you hand me that little screwdriver?”_

_Sitting in the other side of the booth, Akane slid the screwdriver over to Mousse, watching with fascination as he tinkered with the trap. Finding the piece he was looking for, Mousse slid the small locking gear into the mechanism, tightening it with the screwdriver as he stared intently._

_Akane found herself smiling as she watched the Amazon tinkerer work. She liked Mousse. He was a rare friend on the martial arts side of things. Despite their rocky start, the two of them had become surprising friends in the months since the Amazons had arrived in Nerima. Plus, she liked ducks, and his Jusenkyo Duck form was just too cute._

_Mousse carefully moved his hands away from the assembled trap, before confidently pushing his coke-bottle-thick glasses up his nose. “And voila! A spring-loaded smoke bomb dispenser, concealable in all sorts of crevices and alcoves.”_

_Akane clapped politely. “Very nice! I’m always amazed when I see you work on these things. I can’t make heads or tails of any of this stuff.”_

_Mousse shrugged as he undid the knots holding his robe’s sleeves back. “Engineering isn’t for everyone, but everyone’s got a talent. I’m sure you’ve got something I can’t do.”_

_Akane scoffed, a snide smile crossing her lips. “Please. I’m pretty sure I’m the only martial artist in Nerima without a super-special-secret technique. I can’t even swim.”_

_Mousse raised a sympathetic eyebrow. “You’re the heir to the Tendo Dojo, aren’t you? Surely that must have its own techniques?”_

_“I mean, yeah, but nothing like you hiding a hardware store in your sleeves-slash-wings, or Ryoga’s ki blasts, or Ranma’s Soul of Ice thing. My discipline basically stops at ‘punch’ and ‘kick.’”_

_From outside, there was the sound of a bicycle bell ringing, followed by the distinct clatter of a rider-less bicycle crashing into the set of trash cans outside._

_The front door to the Cat Café opened, and Shampoo bounded in, all smiles. “Back from last delivery of the day!” She turned, catching notice of the two seated in the booth, her smile fading to a tired scowl. The cat-morphing Amazon strode over, crossing her arms as she stared at the two of them. “Duck Boy. Kitchen Destroyer.”_

_Akane evenly glared right back at her. “Hey there, Shampers.”_

_Mousse turned a bright red as a dumb smile crossed his face. “Shampoo! You’re back!” He slid down the booth’s bench, making room. “Would you like to sit next to me?”_

_Shampoo stared deeply into Mousse’s soul, before plopping down next to Akane on the other side, not breaking eye contact._

_As Shampoo nestled close to her, Akane felt the same spark of emotion she always felt when she saw the Amazon. She quashed it immediately, cocking an eyebrow. “Little close there, Shampoo.”_

_“Move me, Kitchen Destroyer.” Shampoo flashed Akane a playful wink, blowing a raspberry.”_

_Mousse’s trap on the table suddenly snapped loudly as the locking mechanism broke, making all three of them jump, startled._

_Mousse slumped, gathering the pieces of the trap. “Dang it! I thought that lock looked flimsy.”_

_Shampoo sighed. “Mousse, were I given the opportunity to do so legally, I would murder you in your sleep.”_

_Akane chuckled, patting the table encouragingly. “Don’t give up, Mu Mu. You’ll get it.”_

~/~/~

The Cat Café was gone now. The Amazons had left just a few months ago, without a word. A Big Bang Burger occupied the restaurant space now, peddling burgers that tasted like cardboard and left you hungry again an hour after eating them, served by an employee with a hollow smile.

Akane didn’t eat out much anymore.

A familiar red bicycle was parked out front, secured to the rack with a heavy chain and padlock. The back tire was badly bent, curling in at an almost 90 degree angle. No one had bothered to remove the thing.

Akane turned, heading down the street toward home, the sun still beating down on her.

Exactly 91 feet away from the Tendo Home, she glanced at a thin line of paint on the sidewalk, that Dad had painted as the boundary of the restraining order.

Six months after Ranma’s disappearance, Nodoka Saotome had attempted to invoke the Seppuku Pact on her husband. Brothers to the end, Soun had used his leverage as a town councilman to arrange for an annulment between Genma and Nodoka, and a protection order against her on Genma’s behalf.

For the six months that followed, Nodoka could be counted on to be seen standing at the edge of the boundary for at least an hour a day, sandals against the paint line, silently staring daggers at the Tendo Compound.

A year to the day after her son’s disappearance, Nodoka had violated the Protection Order. Katana in her hand and flint in her eyes, she had stormed up the path to the Tendo Home, intent on carving her way to Genma.

She was serving three years in Fuchū Prison now. One year for violating the Protection Order, plus two years for assault with a deadly weapon.

At the trial, Nodoka had remained cold, her head held high. She continued to speak as she always had, with that same stinking Small-Town Politeness, the kind that broadcasted _“I have zero respect for you, but I consider manners to be everything.”_

Refusing to take any sort of responsibility for Ranma’s disappearance. It was clearly everyone else’s fault, not the woman who had made a toddler sign a suicide pact.

Akane clenched her fists, shoving her anger down inside her, tightly cramming it beneath the surface.

 _Maybe I should become a monk,_ she snarked internally. _At least that would get me some anger management._

As she walked along the long wall outside the Tendo Compound, she trailed her fingertips along its rough surface.

Her key clicked in the lock as she slid the front door to the Tendo Home open. She slipped off her shoes as she stepped inside. “I’m home,” she called.

From his usual spot in front of the shogi board, Soun offered her a smile. “Welcome home, Akane! How was your walk?”

Akane shrugged as she slipped off her shoes. “Hey, Dad. It was fine, I guess.”

Across the shogi board, Genma, in panda form, took advantage of Soun’s distraction to cheat, swapping pieces around with an expert claw.

Soun nodded. “Good, good. Kasumi says dinner should be ready soon.”

“Is Nabiki joining us tonight?”

Soun shook his head. “No, she’s swamped at work. You know how it is.”

“Sure do,” Akane sighed. _Not that you do,_ she muttered internally. Dad hadn’t taught a class since Mom died, and hadn’t sparred with Akane in almost as long. If it weren’t for his town councilman paycheck, Nabiki would be the only one in the household bringing in money.

Soun turned back to the shogi board, not noticing Genma’s deception. He stroked his moustache, clearly planning his own way to cheat.

You could set your watch by the two of them. This was how it had been, almost every day since Genma had moved in with Ranma, seven years ago. The two old friends would sleep late, park themselves in front of the TV for the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon, then attempt to cheat each other at shogi until dinner.

Even though Ranma was long gone, Genma was still squatting in the Tendo Home, independent as a hog on ice. He spent most of his time in Panda mode. He and Akane barely talked, not that that was any different to their relationship the entire time they’d known each other, when Akane was his future daughter-in-law.

With a quiet sigh, Akane excused herself from the living room, heading up the stairs to the second floor. As she passed the linen closet at the top, she paused outside the door to the Elephant.

The Elephant was what she privately referred to as the guest bedroom Ranma and Genma had shared, before Ranma had left and Genma had moved into the other guest room. The Elephant, as in the big issue staring everyone in the face that no one would acknowledge.

Akane slid the door open, staring inside at the empty room. It was cleared of furniture, completely devoid of anything, except the shoebox in the corner.

On a whim, she walked over and knelt in front of the shoebox, cracking it open to view the pitiful display inside.

In the shoebox was what had to be the world’s smallest Butsudan altar. Unlike the one to Mom in Dad’s bedroom, this one was a bare-minimum display, more out of spiteful obligation than anything.

Grandmaster Happosai’s face stared back at her from a tiny, wallet-sized photo, printed out on Nabiki’s printer. His name was written on an index card in marker, and a single candle nub sat in the bottom of the box. In a Ziploc bag, a teaspoon’s worth of ashes.

Happosai had been found floating facedown in a sewage ditch outside of Nerima, about a year ago. It was a very fitting end for the ancient pervert, human excrement that he was.

Dad and Genma had saved just enough of his ashes for the altar, and hidden the rest in concealed areas, far apart from each other. No one had even wanted to give the monster an altar in the first place, but not acknowledging his death properly had felt like tempting fate. The household had put together this bare minimum of an altar, each taken a turn spitting into it, and left it here to gather dust.

Akane mused that she still had to tell Pantyhose Taro, the next time he showed up. He would likely celebrate Happosai’s passing the happiest and loudest of anyone.

She allowed the shoebox to fall closed, kicking it roughly a few feet away. She lay her back against the wall and slid downward, sitting on the floor.

After Ranma had left, and the initial efforts to find him had ceased, people had just… stopped mentioning him. He’d get brought up occasionally, but for the most part, it was as if he had never existed.

No one was willing to admit the part they had played in driving him away, or even mention his existence.

Somehow, that stung worst of all.

Akane understood full well the responsibility she had in what had happened. Not that she’d say it out loud- saying it to the morons and freaks in this town would be like admitting defeat.

In this town, nothing ever really changed. Genma was still squatting in her house. She was still expected to inherit this Dojo with no students, that taught the most basic martial art in a town full of superpowered weirdos. No matter that Akane had graduated from Tokyo University last year (with a history degree she was very proud of). She was expected to do as she had always been expected to and inherit the Dojo.

Nerima was a plane whose engines had died, but hadn’t crashed yet. It was coasting, still aloft, but getting lower and lower, toward an unknowable, but likely unpleasant fate.

~/~/~

_Mousse paused, his hands folded in front of him into the long sleeves of his robe._

_“So… Ranma’s really gone then.” His breath puffed in the cold air before him._

_Akane nodded, not meeting his eyes._

_The last glimmers of sunlight were beginning to vanish, allowing the cold December night to creep in._

_Akane clenched her elbow. She had forgotten her jacket, and was standing in the alley behind the Cat Café in a simple shirt over her winter pants. She shook slightly, only a little bit from the cold. That was what stuck in her head when she looked back on this moment later on, her missing jacket, and wasn’t that silly?_

_Mousse gave her a kind look. “I’m so sorry, Akane.”_

_Akane shook her head. “It’s fine. He went off on his own all the time anyway, why should this be any different.” She stifled a sniffle, turning her back to Mousse. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”_

_Mousse nodded. “I know.” He remained where his was, giving his friend space._

_Akane glared down the darkening alley, trying to ignore the sharp cold around her wet eyes. Her fists clenched at her sides. She could feel her fingernails digging into her palms._

_Finally, she turned to look at Mousse, cold droplets trickling down her face. Mousse looked back at her, unjudging._

_“M-Mousse… I… I…”_

_She raised her arms to him. Without hesitating, Mousse pulled her into a gentle hug, his baggy sleeves draping around her shoulders. “I know.”_

_Akane sniffled into Mousse’s soft robe. “He’s gone, Mousse. He’s gone, and I drove him away. It’s my fault.”_

_There in the dark alley, away from prying, judging eyes, Mousse held his friend close, and let her grieve into his shoulder._

_Akane dimly registered that her cold tears might trigger Mousse’s curse. “I-I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be doing this, I don’t want to-“_

_Mousse hugged her tighter. “Don’t you start. It’s okay, I promise.”_

_Akane squeezed the fabric of Mousse’s robe. Something metallic clinked behind his shoulder as one of his weapons shifted underneath. Akane couldn’t help but smile._

_“You’re a good friend, Mu Mu.”_

~/~/~

Akane’s desk chair creaked under her as she leaned forward in it. Her elbow on her desk, she rested her chin in her hand as she browsed blankly around the usual websites.

Dinner had somehow simultaneously taken forever and no time at all. Meals around the table at the Tendo Home were quiet affairs these days. Conversation was polite enough, but it was that same stinking Small-Town Politeness. Too polite to mention that Nabiki was working late yet again. Too polite to mention that the table felt too big for only four people.

Too polite to upset the silence by talking about the obvious.

It was dark outside. The computer clock read 11:54 pm. The rest of the house was asleep by now.

It was hard to fall asleep most days. Too much thinking and thinking and thinking about the same things, over and over. An unquiet mind, she had read once.

The TubeTube video she had idly clicked on ended. It was some recording of some kinda dance routine. One of those alien rock people that had shown up in the past few years, with blue skin, dancing with some redhead. It was too smooth to not be choreographed, planned ahead of time. Neither dancer’s face could be seen, the quality of the video was garbage.

Akane sighed, rubbing her eyes restlessly. Everything reminded her of Ranma these days, and she hated it.

More than anything, Akane hated herself. Hated her anger. Hated how it ate her alive for so long. Maybe she even hated Ranma. She couldn’t tell anymore.

Either way. He hadn’t deserved half the stuff he was put through.

Their relationship, tumultuous as it was, had had so many ups and downs over the years, and it had just… puffed out at the end.

That last conversation she’d ever had with Ranma, where he had simply asked how she was doing, and she immediately went for the throat with that favorite word of hers-

_(“-pervert-“)_

She could have said something different. She could have done a million things differently.

Instead, she had taken what could have been her own happiness, _their_ happiness, and snuffed it like a candle.

“God, I’m a bad person.” She spoke out loud to no one.

Outside her room, down the stairs, she heard the muffled click of the front door unlocking, the sound of shoes being shucked off, a work bag heavily thumping on the floor.

Nabiki was home.

Akane slid out of her chair to her feet, her bare feet padding gently against the carpet as she opened her bedroom door, into the hallway.

In the entryway, an exhausted-looking Nabiki was sitting on the single stair in the entryway, shoes off, massaging her own feet through her sensible work stockings. Her suit and skirt were wrinkled, an ugly brown stain that looked like coffee down one shoulder. Her frazzled hair stuck out above her tired eyes.

“Long day, Nabs?”

Nabiki turned to look at her sister, standing on the stairs in her bare feet and cream-yellow pajamas. She chuckled tiredly. “Always. Still can’t sleep, ‘Kane?”

Akane shook her head. “Want me to make some tea?”

Nabiki sighed. “Yeah. That’d be nice.” 

~/~/~

Minutes later, Akane stood in the kitchen, arms folded, watching the electric kettle steam. Two cups and some teabags sat to the side, waiting for the water to boil.

Some kids dreamed of being superheroes, or firefighters, or authors. From her early teens, Nabiki had dreamed of being a Yakuza boss.

Nabiki’s world was one of numbers and sums. She had prepared for the better part of a decade. She blackmailed her middle school classmates out of their lunch money. She recruited contacts, expanded her web. By the time she was attending Furinkan High School, she almost literally ruled the school. By graduation, she had most of Nerima in the palm of her hand.

Her ultimate goal had been to blackmail her way into a cushy desk job for the Tsuruya Yakuza Clan. She even had the perfect target: the brash young son of the family’s second lieutenant, Sawamura. Nabiki never shared just what juicy info she had on him, but Akane could imagine.

Of course, that particular train derailed the day Ranma left.

As it happened, just a few days prior to Ranma leaving and taking all of Nabiki’s evidence with him, Nabiki had reached out to Sawamura and arranged a meeting, smugly hinting over the phone that she had some dirt on his son.

By the time the day of the meeting came, Ranma was gone, and the evidence along with him.

With no options, her little empire having quickly learned that she had nothing left to blackmail anyone with, Nabiki had been forced to beg Sawamura-sama for forgiveness on hands and knees, her forehead firmly on the floor before him.

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), Sawamura-sama had a sense of humor.

He had told Nabiki that he admired her boldness to try and blackmail him. Her punishment? He was going to give her exactly what she wanted: a Yakuza desk job.

Which is how Nabiki found herself here: an overworked secretary/go-fer for an incompetent middle manager of a small front company owned by a mid-level Yakuza sub-boss.

It was Nabiki’s worst nightmare.

Every day was an endless nightmare of an ocean of paperwork, or running to get her boss’s coffee or lunch orders.

Every once in a while, Sawamura-sama would pop by to check on her. He’d left strict orders that Nabiki was not to be harassed or harmed, only given work to do.

The once-proud Blackmail Queen of Nerima, reduced to personal assistant for some schmuck. Akane had to admit that she found it funny, if only a little.

The water inside the electric kettle was boiling now. Akane poured the steaming water into the cups, inhaling the scent of the tea.

She supposed she should count herself lucky that Ranma had destroyed Nabiki’s blackmail folder. Akane had always wondered if Nabiki had had any photos of her in there, her own sister, ready to sell for a quick buck.

Akane held the two tea cups lightly between her fingers as she exited the kitchen, into the living room. Lit only by a single lamp, Nabiki had shucked off her work jacket and stockings, and sat at the table, scrolling through her phone with visible disinterest.

Akane sat one tea cup down in front of Nabiki with a muted _clunk._ She sat down across from her, falling silent.

Nabiki groaned softly. “So. What’s got you up, sis?”

All Akane had to do was flash Nabiki a weary smile.

Nabiki sighed. “Ranma again, huh.”

A shrug from Akane. “I mean, yeah, but not just Ranma. Mousse and Shampoo. Ukyo and Konatsu are gone too.”

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. “No kidding. Dang.” She sighed, taking a swig of her tea. “This effing town.”

Akane nodded. “Yeah.”

Nabiki paused, thinking to herself. “Come to think of it, when was the last time you saw Kuno?”

“ _HA!”_ Akane laughed loudly. “Not since like a month after Ranma left. Remember, he was standing outside the house, blasting a love song on that boom box at like, 6 in the morning?”

Pointing at her sister, Nabiki chuckled along with her. “Wasn’t he babbling about how he had finally chosen you, since the _Mysterious Pigtailed Girl_ had finally forsaken him?”

“Yeah. What was it you yelled at him when you opened your window?”

Nabiki grinned at the memory. “That if I ever wanted to kill myself, I’d climb his ego and jump to his IQ. I’m still proud of that one.”

Akane laughed heartily. “Oh, man. That was the best.” She sighed. “I’m pretty sure that he moved on to some other girl after that. Someone younger and weaker than me.”

Nabiki wrinkled her nose. “Gross. Gotta say, I knew the Kunos were nutty, but I wasn’t expecting them to change obsessions _that_ quick.”

“Hmm.” Akane fell silent again, thinking.

Nabiki took a sip of her tea. “Everything went bananas around here the instant Ranma arrived. If you ask me, I’m glad he’s gone.”

“Oh come on, that’s harsh.”

“Am I wrong, though? Before he and the Panda-Man showed up, the weirdest thing we ever had to contend with was Kuno and the Hentai Horde. They show up, and we’ve suddenly got indestructible lost boys and Amazon warriors loose in the streets, an age-shifting teacher who gives assignments in crayon, a principal with a bad case of cultural appropriation that’s also obsessed with haircuts, flying aquatic minotaurs, that one weirdo dressed like a playing card-“

“ _Okay_ , _I get it.”_ Akane cut in. “Yeah, Nerima’s weird, but that’s not Ranma’s fault.”

Nabiki gave her a level stare. “My point is, where’s there’s smoke, there’s fire. That’s why Doc Tofu ran off, he saw the crazies coming and ran off before century-old martial artists with the powers of the Great Gazoo started duking it out in the streets.”

Akane squeezed her tea cup, quashing the anger that welled up when Tofu’s name was mentioned. Somewhere nearby was an odd, whispering sound. Like static from a radio someone had left on.

She counted to five in her head, then spoke with as casual a voice as she could muster.

“Y’know, I used to be a contender around here.”

Nabiki rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Oh boy. Here we go. _How_ many tournaments have you won again in the past few years?”

“I’m serious! And twelve, by the way.” Akane’s brain quickly flashed to the collection of medals and trophies she had accumulated from recent tournament wins, all unceremoniously shoved into the closet at the back of the dojo.

Every single tournament had been held in Tokyo proper, far away from Nerima, the whacky martial arts capital of the world.

“Nabiki, you know I’m probably the most professional martial artist in this town?”

Nabiki took a snide sip of her tea. “At the rate things have been going, you’ll be the _only_ martial artist in this town.”

Akane gave her sister a half-hurt glare. “Will you be serious for one minute? I’m trying to make a point here.”

Nabiki waved two dismissive fingers. “Fine, fine, sorry. As you were.”

Akane exhaled through her nose, forcing her irritation down once again. “Forget it. It’s stupid anyway.”

It was true, though. Unlike the vast majority of most martial artists that came through Nerima, Akane actually represented a Dojo. She didn’t blindly ambush targets of petty vengeance, or drag bystanders into her fights. She didn’t pull out magical bullshit Ki techniques that could vaporize people. Akane had no doubt that she was absolutely the only person in Nerima who could qualify to be in an actual, professional tournament and not be disqualified in a heartbeat.

And therein lay the problem. She could (and had) collected as much tournament winnings as she wanted, but she was expected to stay here in Nerima, surrounded by madmen with magical Ki techniques, and marinate in her own wasted potential. A small fish in a small pond.

Either unknowing or uncaring of her sister’s thoughts, Nabiki shrugged, tossing back the last of her tea with a cynical apathy. “Look, sis, you’re the one who gets to represent the Dojo. That’s just how it rolls here in Nerima.”

Akane gave her sister a scathing look. “Excuse me for wanting to better myself, Nabiki.”

Nabiki laughed, loudly and cruelly, as she stood up. “Better yourself? I tried that, sis, and look where it got me. At least I have a day off tomorrow, for once.” Nabiki snorted. “Better yourself… ‘Kane, when you’re from Nerima, there ain’t no such thing.”

Akane glared after her sister as she sauntered for the stairs. “And I wonder why everyone around here thinks like that, with such inspiring examples like you around to give us advice.”

Another dismissive wave from Nabiki as she exited. “Ugh, fine, I’m no different. Go suck a bug.” The stairs could be heard creaking rhythmically under Nabiki’s feet as she ascended.

Akane sat there alone in the living room, glaring at the two tea cups, her fingernails familiarly digging into her palms.

Outside, rain began to drizzle down, pattering softly against the windows.

After several minutes, she gathered the tea cups, drained them into the kitchen sink, and trudged her way back up the stairs to her room.

Kasumi and Nabiki’s bedrooms were dark under their doors as she passed them.

Numb and sweating despite the cool AC of the house, Akane lay down on her bed, clenching her pillow tightly.

She rubbed one sleeve over her eyes, not caring about the redness it would cause.

She stared at the ceiling, feeling more hopeless than she ever had in her life.

~/~/~

_Ukyo gave Ranma an encouraging pat on the back, before pointing to the other counter behind them. Akane didn’t catch what he was saying, nor did she really care, truth be told._

_The rain continued to roar down outside Ucchan’s, tapping rhythmically against the windows._

_As Ukyo and Ranma turned their backs to the two of them, at her side, Shampoo gave her a glance and a smile. “Hey.”_

_Akane turned to look the purple-haired Amazon in the eye, before feeling a warmth creep over her hand. She looked down quickly, eyes widening._

_Shampoo’s hand rested at the edge of Akane’s leg, right next to her hand. One pinkie, the nail an immaculately-painted violet, slowly and deliberately trailed over Akane’s pinkie._

_Akane felt her heart suddenly leap into her throat at the unexpected contact. Something fluttered in her stomach. Wait, why was that happening? This was Shampoo we were talking about!_

_Akane shot a panicked glance at the unsuspecting Ranma and Ukyo, before looking back to Shampoo. “Shampoo- what- what-“_

_Shampoo gave her a kinder smile than Akane had ever seen from the Amazon. “If you don’t like it, I stop.”_

_Akane paused, staring down at her hand, Shampoo’s finger crossed over her own. Shouts of Pervert, and thoughts of slung punches died quick deaths within her._

_(But, but this can’t be happening. I can’t be enjoying this, we’re both girls! I’m not some kinda pervert!)_

_And yet, Akane couldn’t muster herself to protest, or question, or anything._

_She glanced at Shampoo, who regarded her with a carefully raised eyebrow. “Do you want me stop?”_

_Akane paused, flushing red, before shaking her head gently, one eye still on Ukyo and Ranma’s backs._

_Shampoo smiled again, carefully tracing her palm over the back of Akane’s hand, interlacing their fingers under the bar, out of sight._

_“Ranma lucky to have you. Kitchen Destroyer is a lot prettier than she thinks she is.” Shampoo’s smile was oddly sad._

_Akane, her brain swimming in touch-starved serotonin, felt her heart flip-flop in her chest, their hands remaining locked together under the bar, long after Ranma and Ukyo had turned back around and continued their cooking lesson._


	2. April Interlude: Poor, Poor, Pitiful Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: This chapter depicts some self-destructive thoughts and actions. Please use your own best judgement before reading.

**_Four Months Earlier_ **

**_18 Months after Ranma’s Disappearance_ **

**_One Evening in April_ **

****

_Akane’s running shoes scuffed along the pavement, her breathing steady as she jogged._

_The evening sun hung low in the sky. The streets were mostly deserted this time of day, Nerima being a comparatively quiet town in regards to night life._

_Martial artist attacks aside, of course._

_She rounded the corner, heading back toward where she had been just a few minutes prior. The front gates of Furinkan High School were shut, just ahead of her on the left. On her evening runs, she would occasionally do laps around her old school, like this. She knew she really shouldn’t, with how the memories of Kuno and the Hentai Horde put her on edge, but she liked the route. There was something different about the pavement here. Or maybe it was just nostalgia._

_Akane stopped for a breather, one hand on the gate as she panted. One hand reached downward, fumbling along her waist for her water bottle, only to come up empty-handed._

_She groaned. “Dang it… I forgot it again, didn’t I?”_

_She sighed, stretching her arms over and backward. “Nuts. Guess I’ll be dry until I get home.”_

_Akane was about to start the jog home, when her train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the familiar sound of a bicycle bell._

_Ding-Ding!_

_“Nihao!”_

_Akane found herself smiling as she turned to the familiar voice._

_Shampoo pedaled her bike backward, braking into a stop in the street next to Akane. Her bells jingled as she gave Akane a huge smile. “Good evening! How are you?”_

_Akane nodded with a smile. “Good, good. Out for deliveries, Shampoo?”_

_“Just finishing up for today, actually. What you up to?” Shampoo gave a teasing nod toward the school. “Casing the joint?”_

_A giggle from Akane as she scratched the back of her head. “Nah, nah, just a jog. I like to jog in the evenings.”_

_“Well you can’t do with dry throat! Here…” Shampoo reached down toward a plastic black strap attached to her bike frame, above her pedals. She removed a large, battered plastic water bottle, half full of a translucent red liquid. “Here, hydrate. Is good for you.”_

_Cocking an eyebrow as Shampoo handed it to her, Akane sniffed the bottle, before taking a large swig. Though her parched throat was delightfully sated, she wrinkled her nose and cheeks at the taste. “Hmm. What’s in that?”_

_“Cherry flavor. Is good stuff. Don’t like just plain water.”_

_Akane screwed the cap back onto the bottle, before handing it back to Shampoo. “That’s all you. It’s very cloying.”_

_Shampoo shrugged good-naturedly. “More for me.”_

_“Thank you though, Shampoo. That feels a lot better.”_

_As Shampoo reattached the bottle to her bike, Akane glanced at the time on her phone. “Guess I’d better be getting home.”_

_Shampoo’s face brightened. “Oh! May I walk with you? Going the same way anyway.”_

_Akane paused, just for a moment, before smiling. “Yeah, sure. Come on.”_

_As they walked along the canal, Akane’s running shoes tapped against the pavement beneath them, the gears on Shampoo’s bike clicking gently next to her as the Amazon pushed it along._

_“So why you jog this late in the day, Kitchen Destroyer?”_

_Akane smirked, letting the old nickname slide off her shoulders. “I think I’m getting more sensitive to heat as I get older? I boil alive if I try to jog during the day.” She glanced up at the orange evening sky, with dark purple clouds scattered through it. “Plus it’s just nicer this time of day.”_

_Shampoo chuckled lightly, walking at her side. “Can’t argue with you there.”_

_Akane stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jogging pants, breathing the cool evening air in deeply. “Your Japanese is getting a lot better, Shampoo. Those classes been paying off?”_

_Shampoo nodded with a smile, her purple braids flouncing around her shoulders. “They have! I still a little shaky here and there, though. Yes.”_

_“Nothing wrong with that. You really do sound a lot better.”_

_Shampoo sighed, with more than a hint of sarcasm. “It still humiliating, though. I not stupid. Hear what people say. Don’t care though. You know how smart I am in Chinese?”_

_Akane gave the Amazon a sympathetic look. She hesitated, just briefly, before raising a single hand, placing it on Shampoo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Shampers. You don’t deserve that.”_

_“No.” Shampoo agreed softly. She gave Akane a long look. “Don’t ever let anyone make you feel stupid, Kitchen Destroyer.”_

_Akane chuckled. “No need to worry on that front. I can take care of myself.”_

_“Do it. Send them my way, too, yes? I’ll bite them.”_

_Akane fell into loud peals of laughter at that, Shampoo grinning mischievously before joining in. She made a few mock-scratching motions with her hands, her fingers curled like claws. “After that, splash me and let me go to town with kitty claws!”_

_The two turned the corner, onto the street where Akane lived. Just ahead of them, the Cat Café sat, closed for the night._

_Shampoo eased her bicycle into the parking rack on the sidewalk in front of the Cat Café. She paused for a moment, adjusting her jacket around her. Akane admired it for a moment, a royal purple leather jacket that complimented Shampoo’s hair very nicely._

_Shampoo’s hair, so fluffy and vibrant, her two ever-present braids hung over each shoulder._

_The jacket, its textured leather over her blue Chinese shirt and pants._

_Her shoulders, built and toned underneath._

_Her strong hands, capable of wielding a heavy pair of metal chui with ease._

_Her legs, just as strong and powerful, capable of putting craters in concrete._

_“Like what you see, Kitchen Destroyer?”_

_Her voice, wry and teasing._

_Akane suddenly realized that she had been ogling Shampoo, staring at her like some kind of-_

**_(Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare even think that word.)_ **

_She glanced down at Shampoo’s hands, those hands that had crept over her own in Ucchan’s that rainy day a thousand years ago._

_Those hands Akane had gone to sleep that night thinking about._

_That encounter at Ucchan’s, sticking out in Akane’s mind for so long._

_She, never daring to talk about it or bring it up or ask the questions surrounding it, for fear of what the answer might be._

_She was still engaged to Ranma, after all._

_Wasn’t she?_

_Something, not anger but something new, blossomed deep within Akane, a question burning brightly in the corners of her core._

_Why am I still waiting for a Boy who I literally haven’t seen in over a year?_

_“Shampoo… can I ask a weird question?”_

_Shampoo cocked an eyebrow. “Only if okay with weird answer.”_

_Akane chuckled, but pressed on. “That day… in Ukyo’s. When we…”_

_Shampoo nodded. “Yep Yep.”_

_“What… uh… what was that?”_

_Shampoo smiled softly, leaning one elbow against the brick wall of the Cat Café. “What do you want it to be?”_

_Akane breathed softly, trying to ignore the flock of butterflies in her stomach. “I… don’t know… I really don’t.”_

_Shampoo stepped closer, smiling softly at the growing blush in Akane’s cheeks. “Want to find out? Together?”_

_Akane blinked rapidly. “Wh-wh-how-“_

_“How about this. You meet Shampoo at train station tomorrow at noon, yes? We go into Tokyo. Lunch? Maybe a movie?”_

_Akane took a deep breath, before reaching one hand forward, interlacing it with Shampoo’s._

_“I… I’d like that, Shampoo. I think I’d like that a lot.”_

_Shampoo nodded. “It a date then, ‘Kane.”_

_Akane smiled softly, releasing Shampoo’s hand. Shampoo stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets, quickly stepped back toward the door to the Cat Café, and gave Akane a playful grin. “Your treat.”_

_Sputtering, Akane raised an accusing finger, smiling in spite of herself. “Wh- wait a minute! You asked me out, why am I the one paying?!”_

_“I not the one who wins a bunch of tournaments and gets prize money, no?” With one last wink and a grin, Shampoo slid inside, closing the door behind her._

_~/~/~_

_“Shampoo.”_

_Akane lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling._

_Her brain spun with the conversation that had happened, just a few hours ago, outside the Cat Café._

_“Shampoo.”_

_It was odd, how nice that name was. How nice it felt in her mouth. How nice it felt to say out loud._

_“Shampoo…”_

_There was an odd fluttery feeling in Akane’s stomach. It was a feeling that had often arisen when she saw Shampoo, over the years. It had once been tempered with hostility, defensiveness._

_Yet here it was now, clear and unfiltered, with no angry emotions nesting it within themselves._

_Akane had often wondered what that feeling was, that she so often felt around one of the rivals for Ranma. If it wasn’t anger, then what was it?_

_For the first time, Akane thought she might finally know what it was._

_A small, giddy smile slid across Akane’s face. The flock of butterflies in her stomach had yet to subside in the past few hours. Akane had practically floated home._

_~/~/~_

**_The Next Morning_ **

**_11:45 a.m._ **

****

_Akane sat on the bench outside Nerima’s train station, hands clutching each other nervously in her lap._

_Despite the flip-flopping feeling in her stomach, she was excited for what the day would bring._

_It was a bright and sunny day, temperate, not too hot or chilly. As cliché as it was, blossoming Sakura trees planted down the street scattered pink petals through the spring air._

_After some deliberation this morning, she had settled on an outfit she was rather proud of. A knee-length sleeveless pink dress, with a snazzy black suit coat over it._

_It was the sort of thing Nabiki would refer to as “butchy femme.” Akane loved the concept._

_Inside the bag slung over her shoulder were two bottled sodas and a few packs of Pocky, to sneak into whatever movie they wound up seeing._

_Despite herself though, something small, spiteful, and selfish floated up in the back of her mind._

_“I don’t need to keep waiting for Ranma. He does what he wants anyway, so why should I waste my life pining after him like some ingénue?”_

_Smiling, Akane straightened her bag. Above her, a train could be heard leaving the station as she glanced down the street. She knew she was early, but she was just too excited to stay at home._

_She could wait._

_~/~/~_

**_12:10 p.m._ **

****

_Akane glanced at her phone’s clock._

_“It’s okay. Things happen, she’s running late. Big whoop. Happens to the best of us.”_

_~/~/~_

**_1:00 p.m._ **

****

_“Okay, that’s weird. Maybe Cologne is keeping her busy, running deliveries or something.”_

_Ryoga strode by in front of her, eyes locked onto a large map unfolded in his hands as he headed east._

_~/~/~_

**_2:00 p.m._ **

****

_“Maybe she had to go into Tokyo this morning on another train, and it’s running late getting back.”_

_Akane very deliberately tried not to think of too many possibilities as she cracked open the other soda from her bag, the first one lying empty on the ground next to the bench._

_~/~/~_

**_3:00 p.m._ **

****

_“Maybe the train broke down.” She mused, gnawing on a piece of Pocky._

_~/~/~_

**_4:00 p.m._ **

_“Maybe the train got sucked through a wormhole into a parallel dimension based on cliched fantasy tropes and now she’s fighting a righteous war against a dark demon king. That’s it, Shampoo got isekai’d.”_

_Ryoga strode by in front of her, eyes locked onto a large map unfolded in his hands as he headed west._

_~/~/~_

**_5:00 p.m._ **

_“Maybe Shampoo never headed this way at all.”_

_~/~/~_

**_8:00 p.m._ **

****

_“Wow. I guess I really am the problem.”_

_Feeling numb, Akane rose from the bench for the first time in eight hours. Her head hurt. Her throat was dry. Her stomach grumbled. Her bladder was full. The humidity was setting in yet again, promising another hot, sweaty night._

_Akane felt hopeless._

_More than anything, she felt mocked._

_The street lamp above her flickered and died, leaving her in darkness. Without looking at it, Akane’s fist shot to the side, a single punch denting the pole, curling it downward._

_All down the street, the Sakura trees shed more petals, scattering to the ground, lit by the street lights. It resembled falling ash more than anything._

_The discarded Pocky wrapper crunched underfoot as she slowly turned toward home._

_~/~/~_

**_The Next Morning_ **

_The Cat Café was dark, and deathly silent._

_Akane stood in the doorway, one hand loosely holding the frame, unsure of what she was seeing._

_Behind her, the street outside was bright and well-lit. The forecast this morning had promised sunny skies the whole day, a marked contrast to the dull, hollow pit in Akane’s stomach._

_She had stomped down here more or less as soon as she’d finished wolfing down breakfast, intending to give Shampoo a piece of her mind for standing her up. Maybe dump some cold water on her and punt her cat form for a field goal._

_She had given the back wheel of Shampoo’s bike, parked outside, a swift kick, bending the rim beyond repair. The tire hissed, releasing air that stank like burnt rubber, or ozone._

_One fist, tightly clenched over the door handle, a swift wrench to one side to break the lock, and a swift shove open revealed…_

_an empty restaurant. The tables and chairs were gone. Any decorations or art were gone as well, leaving the walls bare and blank._

_Akane stood there in the doorway. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this._

_“Hello? Shampoo?”_

_No response. Her voice sounded hollow in the empty space._

_“Mousse? Elder Cologne?”_

_Akane tried the door leading to the Amazons apartment above the restaurant, finding it unlocked._

_The apartment was also barren. She admittedly hadn’t been up here more than once or twice, but everything that had been up here in the Amazons living space was gone, with not even a cobweb left._

_They were gone. Left without a word._

_Akane numbly stepped into the alley behind the restaurant, where she had sat with Shampoo and Mousse a dozen times, just talking and catching up. Where Mousse had held her, comforted her after the reality of Ranma leaving had finally struck her._

_Nothing. Not even a trace that they had ever been here at all._

_On a whim, almost in a daze, Akane wrapped her hand around the handle to the lid of the lonely trash can back here, behind the café. She lifted it up, looking inside._

_She laughed, a single detached, apathetic Ha. She reached in, snagging the item on the bottom with her fingertips, slowly pulling the purple leather jacket out. It was caked in some sticky brown residue from the bottom of the can._

_Above her, all at once, the sky cracked with lightning, and a torrential downpour drenched her almost instantly._

_Akane dropped the jacket from her hands, letting it drape half-out of the garbage can._

_They were gone. Shampoo and Mousse, two of the only friends she had left._

_Akane turned, letting her feet slowly carry her to the mouth of the alley, her soaked shoes squelching with every step._

_Guided only by the instinctual notion that if she went home right now, she would surely snap, Akane wandered Nerima, the cold rain pouring down on her, soaking her to her core. Even through the cold rain, she was so, impossibly humid._

_It was torture, and that was exactly what she wanted._

_Guided only by a desire to hurt, Akane walked._

_That night, when she went home, Dad and Genma both out drinking, Nabiki at work, only Kasumi there to see her pain and shame, she sat limply at the living room table, barely registering Kasumi fretting and warming towels and a blanket for her._

_Eventually, she found herself in bed._

_Akane stared at the ceiling as the rain thundered down outside, feeling nothing at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said this fic was gonna have some downer moments compared to the last one?
> 
> Yeah.


	3. Controlled Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some readers might find my treatment of Nabiki to be more than a little vicious, and that she's just as beloved as the rest of these characters. Please understand, we genuinely wrote her as we viewed her in the original series and manga, and I ask the reader to view her from a perspective removed from nostalgia, and to understand that her actions and behavior were just as unacceptable in the 80s as they are today. If nothing else, as a very kind commenter reminded me, Takahashi herself named Nabiki as the biggest villain in the series.
> 
> Content Warning: this chapter contains a very vicious argument with a decent amount of verbal abuse. This scene begins when Nabiki enters Akane's room, and lasts for much of the rest of the chapter. Please use your own best judgement before reading.

**_August_ **

****

Akane knelt on the floor of the bathroom, staring blankly at the object in her hands.

Said object was a yellow and black bandanna, a fistful of black hair clenched in her fingers along with it.

Said hair was attached to the head of one Ryoga Hibiki, who was staring at her with wide, horrified eyes and an open mouth, croaking silently.

Ryoga’s head was attached to Ryoga’s body, which was decidedly nude, every crack and crevice visible.

Ryoga’s body was partially submerged in the warm waters of the furo.

Akane glanced up and down the body of the lost man who had popped out of her pet pig when she had tried to give P-chan a warm morning bath.

“So. Ryoga. Is there something you want to tell me?”

Ryoga slowly raised both trembling hands, palms flat before him. “W-w-w-well, Akane, y’see-“

Not changing her level facial expression, Akane raised one hand. “Actually, hang on a sec. I’ll be right back.”

Akane calmly rose to her feet, taking even, measured steps out of the bathroom. Ryoga craned his head after her, watching as she left the room.

From down the hall:

“ _Hey, Kasumi, can I borrow the thing?”_

_“Oh? Of course, Akane, but why?”_

_“No reason.”_

Ryoga stayed in the furo’s water’s, submerged to his midsection, not daring to move. Maybe Akane would be understanding, even forgiving, after he explained that this was all Ranma’s fault.

Akane reentered the bathroom, her bare feet tapping gently on the wooden floor. Ryoga’s eyes widened at the object in her hand.

Akane resumed her seated position on the floor, resting Mallet-sama’s head, long disused, now brought out of retirement, on the floor. She folded her hands primly over the end of the handle. “Proceed.”

Ryoga began unconsciously scanning for exits, a window. He found none.

“Ha, uh, well, Akane, it’s a funny story. Y’see, many years ago, I was following Ranma-“

“Uh-huh.”

“-so we could finish our blood feud that he ran out on-“

“Okay.”

“And I tracked them to Jusenkyo-“

“Got that.”

“And I fell in-“

“Mhmm.”

“-to the Spring of Drowned Pig-“

“Tragic Story.”

“-and I followed Ranma to Nerima-“

“Gotcha.”

“And we fought, and I accidentally cut your hair-“

“Still salty.”

“And then I followed him here, and he splashed me in the Koi pond outside, and found out about my curse, and I swore him to secrecy.”

“Sure. So, which part of this whole saga culminated with you pretending to be my pet pig and sleeping in my bed?”

Ryoga began to turn beet red, even as Akane’s expression didn’t budge a muscle. “Uh… I… uh, er, that is-“

Akane nodded contemplatively. “Okay, wow, uh-huh, neato. You’ve got to the count of ten to run for your life.”

Ryoga blinked. “Ah-“

“One, two, skip a few, ten.”

~/~/~

Nabiki stepped out of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes with a bleary yawn, and was immediately drenched by a passing very-well-built naked wet man galloping down the hall with very little left to the imagination. Akane stormed after him in hot pursuit, waving the splintered wooden handle of a broken mallet.

Nabiki stood there, blinking rapidly as she stared at nothing, trying to process what had just happened.

Ryoga rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, clinging to the wall with one hand to swing him around.

“DON’T RUN, RYOGA! I WANNA BE YOUR _FRIEND!”_

The sound of an enraged Akane behind him, he launched himself through the living room, whereupon his foot painfully collided with the heavy wooden shogi board, sending small pieces flying in every direction. Soun was bowled over backwards, Panda-Genma waving around a wooden sign that simply said “ ** _WHAT?!!?”_** in every panicked direction.

No matter how indestructible and hardy a martial artist could become, no one could survive a shogi board to the bare toes. Ryoga hopped on his other foot, clutching his injured one, before stumbling through the paper of the shoji door and over the porch, promptly tumbling facefirst into the mud of the drained koi pond in the yard. His naked buttocks pointed humiliatingly up in the air.

Thwacking the wooden handle on her hand threateningly, the pajama-clad Akane strode through the ruined shoji door outside.

“Stay right there, pig-perv, that’s the perfect position. I’m gonna stick this thing somewhere moist and magical!”

With an inarticulate cry of terror, Ryoga forced himself to his feet, sprinting through the mud and up the other side of the koi pond. He threw himself through the air at the stone wall that surrounded the Tendo Compound, thrusting one finger before him.

_“Breaking Point!”_

A section of the wall shattered as Ryoga impacted through it, leaving a neatly-broken Ryoga-shaped hole behind him. He immediately broke into a panicked sprint, running for his life down the street, stark naked except for his bandanna, his only other cover a coating of mud.

Akane awkwardly stumbled through the hole Ryoga had left, flinging the handle after him as he fled. “ _Yeah_ , you _better_ run!!!”

Inside the Tendo Home, Nabiki walked into the living room, staring wide-eyed through the hole in the shoji door to the hole in the outer wall. “Wow. Guess ‘Kane finally figured out the P-chan connection.”

Soun glanced at Genma. “About how long did that take?”

The panda held up a sign that read “ ** _About seven years.”_**

Nabiki grinned, extending her hands toward the two. She gestured at them with her palms. “Eh. Eh.”

With a good-humored smile from Soun and an eyeroll from Genma, each placed 1000 yen in Nabiki’s hands.

Akane clambered back through the cartoonish hole from the street, her feet touching down in the cold, wet grass. The anger was fading from her again, leaving only the typical numbness and an itchy feeling in her scalp.

She paused by the empty Koi pond, staring down at the trench in the soft mud at the shallow bottom.

The two Koi that had used to be in here, that she had sat on the side of the pond and watched with wide eyes when she was very small, had died long ago. Ranma and Genma throwing each other into it constantly, or Ranma landing in it after Akane had knocked his block off, had taken their toll on the fragile fish. No one had gotten around to removing their bodies before the birds got to them. Over time, the empty water had stagnated, and eventually dried up, leaving only a muddy residue at the bottom that never seemed to go away.

“Akane?” A familiar, soft voice.

Akane glanced upward. On the edge of the deck stood Kasumi, concern in her eyes, the bottom of her apron wrapped around your hands. “Are you alright?”

Akane gave a thin, humorless smile. “Of course, Kasumi. I’m _great._ I just learned that one of my few remaining friends has been pretending to be my pet pig for years, watching me undress and everything. My day’s absolutely fantastic.”

Kasumi sighed, slowly sitting down on the edge of the deck, her feet dangling off. “Akane, please talk to me. I know you’re hurting.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” Dear God, why was it so humid out here all of a sudden?

A knowing look from Kasumi. “Akane, I’m your sister. Please. Just talk to me, I promise I’ll listen.”

_That’s a laugh. You never listened before. When Ranma was here, getting knocked around by me and all the other attack dogs, did you ever help him? Or did you just stand there in the kitchen and not rock the boat?_

Akane’s fingernails dug into her palms as she remorselessly quashed those feelings beneath the surface. “Kasumi, I love you very much, but I need to go upstairs before I say something I’ll regret.”

Akane rapidly stepped up on the porch and through the ruined shoji door, doing her best to ignore Kasumi’s hurt expression.

Kasumi sat on the porch, tightly clutching her apron in her lap, staring at the drained koi pond and the hole in the wall, these blights upon the house she had served so faithfully for so long.

“Kasumi, sweetie!” Father’s voice, from behind her. “How’s breakfast coming?” A sincere question, unknowing of its carelessness.

Kasumi took a deep breath, in and out, before rising to her feet. “Not too much longer, Father.”

~/~/~

An hour later, Akane felt the morning heat belt uncomfortably down on her as she walked, her shoes clicking gently against the sidewalk.

She squinted against the sun. It seemed like the weather for the past few years had always been either sweltering hot and humid, or raining buckets. It was made all the more frustrating by the fact that no one ever seemed to notice the heat but her.

“How does Kasumi bear to cook, with that hot stove in heat like this? I feel like my bones are melting.”

Her destination wasn’t that far, but the walk still felt insufferable in this heat, particularly in the nice clothes she’d changed into.

As she crossed the canal, she glanced down through the chain link fence at the gurgling waters below.

On a whim, she bent her legs, then with a quick “ _Hup-hup!”_ she hopped onto the top of the fence. With only a quick second to steady herself, she quickly gained her balance.

Akane began to nimbly walk down the fence. It was a lot easier than it had looked, despite the added weight of her bag, packed more fully than usual.

She smiled to herself. “This is kinda fun, actually. No wonder Ranma always liked doin’ it.”

So this was how Ranma saw the world, back then. Elevated above it all, even just by a few feet. The sidewalk just a few feet down on one side, a sudden drop and roll down the concrete slope to a wet landing on the other.

Akane sighed, her thoughts beginning to spiral as they often did when Ranma came to mind, and the guilt floated to the top.

What was the tipping point? Was it that last conversation? Was it the wedding? Was it that first day, where she slapped him as he came out of the bathroom?

What could she have done different? Who was she to not have seen anything until it was far, far too late, until the parachutes had failed and the ground was approaching at horrifying speeds?

The last turn to get to her destination came into view, up ahead on the left. She hopped down from the top of the fence, gripping one pole for support as she landed. She immediately withdrew her hand with a snap of static electricity against the metal, wincing as she rubbed her fingertips.

_Life really is just one freaking thing after another, isn’t it?_

With a grumble, she headed down that last side street.

A few minutes later, she stopped, staring over the waist-high stone wall at her destination.

Nerima’s cemetery was comparatively small, crammed between a couple of buildings. This one had seen some disuse, most folks around here who chose to have gravestones being located in the larger one, on the border between Nerima and Shibuya.

The smooth stones on the shady gravel path crunched beneath her nice shoes, as she wound the familiar path to the spot she remembered, a little back and to the left.

She knelt down in front of the traditional headstone, sitting carefully on the small stone border in front of it. From her bag, she retrieved a small orange, expertly peeling it with her thumb.

“Hey, Mama. I know, it’s been a while.”

Yayoi Tendo’s kind, smiling face looked back at her from the photo in the custom plaque in the center, between her first and last names. The picture was an enlarged crop from a family photo. If you knew to look, you could see Soun’s hair poking from the left side. She remembered when this photo was taken, that a very young version of herself was out of view, clutching her mother’s dress near the waist.

“You’ve been here, what, ten years? Wow, time really does fly.” Akane chuckled. “I graduated from Tokyo U. Got a degree in central Asian history. Chahamana, Prithviraj, all that. It’s really fun stuff.” Akane smiled. “I know you’d be proud of me.” She reached forward, placing a few orange slices on top of the stone.

A sigh as Akane’s gaze travelled downward. “But… but I’m still just so angry, all of the time. It never ends. I feel like I’m dying every time it happens, but it just won’t stop. I’ve lost track of how many bridges I’ve burned at this point.”

She slid an orange slice into her mouth, chewing softly as she thought. A small smile poked back across her face at the taste. Yayoi Tendo, who had lived for 36 years and died for three, had had a deep, abiding love of oranges. She would share them with her daughters, with her husband, every chance she got. Dad would always smile, and promise to buy her a mikan tree, and plant it behind the Dojo.

He had never gotten around to it before things went south.

“Dad still loves you. He misses you every day. He’s good at hiding it, but sometimes… I see him, just staring and looking sad.” Akane sighed, swallowing another piece of orange. “I’m only just realizing that when you left, I don’t think he ever really recovered. He’s gotten a lot better, but that first year was… it was so bad. These days, he and Mr. Saotome just… sit around all day, watch TV and play shogi. I don’t even remember the last time we sparred.

“Nabiki’s so different these days. I still don’t know why she told everyone about Ranma and I’s wedding. It was gonna just be a quick, small ceremony, and suddenly half of Nerima is kicking down the door. I don’t even think anyone paid her for it. As for Kasumi, I… I think she’s just given up. Nothing but cooking and cleaning and the occasional Oh My. Probably not as much as I think she does, but the point stands.”

Akane paused, leaning back, the stone rough against her hands. She gently rustled the gravel with her heel. “I just… I still wish you were here. I have no idea how things would be if you were, but I _know_ you would have never let that stupid engagement thing happen.” She sighed. “Or maybe you would have. Who freaking knows.”

Akane slumped, her head drooping downward. “Y’know, anyone who says it’s better to have loved and lost than not loved at all, they oughta try it.”

She looked upward, long and hard at the blue sky, letting it prickle her eyes. “Hell, I barely know what love is.”

There was a long silence, the headstone waiting patiently as Akane gathered her thoughts.

“I just… I just want something that’s mine. I don’t want to just keep recycling the same basic techniques and moves in a dojo with an old name and no students. I haven’t meditated since high school. God, I can’t even _cook,”_ she added with a bitter chuckle. “Everything I make just tastes sour.”

“This town… I know you loved it here, but its changed. Or maybe it hasn’t changed, I don’t know which is worse. Everything feels dirty. Not, like, dirty like a trash dump or a hoarder house. Dirty like… like an old corner store that’s been open for ten years, and the floors are always swept, but you can see the dirt and grime in the corners if you look for it, and the shelves are just cluttered enough to bother you, but not enough to be worth tidying.”

With one last heavy sigh, Akane let herself slide off the stone border, sinking to her butt on the gravel ground. Arms on her knees, she buried her face, reaching out and trailing one finger down the front of the stone.

“I’m just so tired. I’m so tired of being _angry_ , and I’m so tired of being _hot_ , and I’m so tired of being tired.”

~/~/~

The train door slid open silently before her.

Akane stood on the other side of the yellow line, staring into the train car.

” **This train is bound for: Akihabara Station.”** The speaker droned above her.

And here she was again. Staring into the same train that Ranma had disappeared into, almost two years ago.

Capable of easily vanishing into the world, never to be seen again, just like he had.

She hadn’t been sure at the time why she had packed a bag this morning. A couple of changes of clothes, rolled and packed tightly in the bottom next to a pair of good walking shoes. A few small toiletries in a bag. Her wallet, bank cards at the ready. Some granola bars and bottled water, just in case. A towel, the world’s most versatile tool. And a thick book, the one thing no one should be without.

All she had to do was step over the yellow line, onto the train, and leave this town behind.

She raised one foot to step aboard… and froze, her foot hanging in midair.

_Why? What’s stopping you? There’s nothing left to keep you here, nothing! Just go, right now!_

She couldn’t move. She just couldn’t bring herself to step forward.

Akane lowered her foot to the ground.

The door slid closed silently.

The train lurched out of the station, heading to Akihabara.

_Good job there, Tomboy. You really showed ‘em._

~/~/~

As Akane entered the Tendo Home for what would be the last time, she dropped the packed travel bag she had brought with her roughly to the entryway floor.

She moaned, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “This heat could kill a healthy man.”

Soun, passing the entryway on his way back to his shogi game from the bathroom, cocked an eyebrow. He glanced out the window at the afternoon sunshine. “Really? It’s felt pretty temperate to me, all these freak rainstorms aside.” He shrugged, mind already off the topic as he reentered the living room. “Oh, I meant to mention. Be careful when you go out, Akane. I keep hearing things about weirdly aggressive birds these days.”

Akane glowered after him. She kicked her nice shoes off indifferently, before striding up the stairs toward her bedroom.

She shut the door loudly behind her, her swan-shaped nameplate rattling loudly against the door. Not bothering to change, she flopped down onto her bed, groaning into her pillow.

_Forget Genma, I’m the one who can’t go anywhere if she tried._

There was a light knock at the door, which then slid open. Nabiki, not having bothered to wait for a verbal reply, sauntered in, sitting down in Akane’s desk chair. She munched on a popsicle held between her fingers. “Hey, sis. Rough mornin’?”

Akane slowly turned her head, her face emerging from the pillow to stare at her sister. “Haven’t you got work?”

“Nope. Day off, remember?” Nabiki smirked, glancing Akane over. “You’ve gotta stop takin’ these long walks, ‘Kane. I think they proved that stuff’s bad for your health.”

Akane sat up, feeling sweat-soaked shirt stick to her back. “For your information, I actually went to see Mom.”

An almost imperceptible twinge in Nabiki’s face. Pain, anger, hurt.

Akane’s face softened. “You really should go visit her, Nabiki. I know you haven’t been there since the funeral.”

Nabiki scoffed, refusing to meet her eyes. “There’s no point in talking to a piece of carved rock.”

“She can hear you, Nabs. I promise she can.”

“What would I possibly even talk about?”

“Just whatever. Fill her in on everything that’s happened.”

A humorless chuckle from Nabiki as she leaned back in the creaking desk chair. “Right. That’ll make riveting conversation, talk about all the garbage that happens around here. I know I’d want my descendants to get all weepy where I’m buried and tell me about _their_ failed engagements and death threats.”

A long silence.

Nabiki diverted her gaze from the ceiling.

Akane was glaring her down, hurt and anger in her eyes.

Nabiki sighed. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Akane nodded stiffly. “Thank you.”

The room was silent for several seconds as both sisters sat.

Eventually, from Akane:

“You didn't have to tell anyone, you know?"

Nabiki glanced at her. "About what?"

"When me and Ranma were getting married. No one outside the family had to know."

Nabiki exhaled softly through her nostrils. "Yeah, well, that would have been too boring, you know?"

The silence was deafening.

Akane stared blankly, barely comprehending what she had just heard come from Nabiki’s mouth so dismissively.

Somewhere nearby, that familiar sound of static hissed again, a low white noise.

"Boring?"

"Yeah. Nothing in Nerima ever changes and it never will. Gotta keep some kind of entertainment going, right?"

Akane straightened up on the bed, a familiar acidic bile beginning to build in the back of her throat.

"Sorry, let me see if I’ve got this right. The chance either of us had at happiness was _boring_ to you?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Nabiki gestured animatedly. "Oh, come on, Akane, Ranma was never gonna stay. Look at him, he's gone now. This was always gonna happen. If he’d stuck around longer, then you would have just been even sadder when he ran. I saved you some grief in the end.” Another smirk. “To be honest, you owe me."

The statement hit Akane like a punch in the gut.

"I _owe_ you?!"

Outside, the first drops of rain began to patter against the window.

Akane leapt to her feet, her blood boiling. "Okay, so, what do I gotta do to repay your gracious debt I incurred?! Take more pictures to sell to your perverted customer base? Get you a better job so you can feel powerful again?” Akane folded her arms, eyes narrowed. “What's your sister's pound of flesh, Nabiki?!"

Heavy, fat raindrops began to plunk against the window. Wide-eyed, Nabiki raised two placating hands. "Jeez, 'Kane, it was just a jo-"

 _"YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT!”_ Akane roared.

Thunder rolled deafeningly over the house.

Nabiki stared incredulously at Akane, her expression the kind one typically reserved for a cockroach that had just crawled onto their plate. She stood from the desk chair. “I never heard you complaining when I was bringing money into this house. Never heard a peep out of you when I pulled us out of the muck. Remember Dad’s gambling debts? Mom’s medical debts?”

She pointed a single thumb at her own chest. “I did that. I got the debt collectors off our phones and off our doorstep. So excuse me, Akane, if I feel a little entitled to some kind of reward, because _I’m pretty sure I’ve earned it!”_

Above them, the overhead light flickered rapidly. The rain grew so much louder, a low rumble against the roof of the house.

Akane’s teeth gritted loudly. The static noise was so, so loud in her ears. She felt her fists clench into that familiar shape, her nails digging into her palms. “You’re right. I didn’t say anything, and maybe I was wrong to! Maybe we _should_ have lost the house, if it meant blackmailing other people into poverty! Do you think Mom would have wanted this?!”

“Mom doesn’t want _anything_ anymore _,”_ Nabiki snarled, jabbing a single finger at the center of Akane’s chest. “Mom’s _dead._ And I do not have the time or inclination to explain my grotesque existence to a whiny little brat who lives in the house _I_ paid for, and then questions the manner in which I did it!”

“Did you have pictures of me?” Akane retorted.

Nabiki froze, her eyes still narrowed. “ _What_ did you say to me?” She hissed.

Akane leaned forward, her voice as soft as the distant thunderclaps that punctuated her sentence. “I said. Did you. Have pictures. Of me. In your blackmail folder.”

There was a long, terrible silence, broken only by the rumble of falling rain.

Finally, Nabiki spoke.

“I don’t have to answer that.”

Outside, the wind began to howl. The old compound windows began to clack, open and shut.

Downstairs, Kasumi quickly strode from the kitchen, all business. With only a quick glance at the shaking thin plastic sheet that had been hung over the hole Ryoga had broken in the shoji door, she called up the stairs. “Nabiki, Akane! Can you help me cover up this hole so the rain doesn’t get in?”

Upstairs, Akane shook her head, outright hatred in her eyes. “Unbelievable. Your own sister. You’re _disgusting.”_

Nabiki dramatically rolled her eyes. “Oh, like you’re one to talk! It’s no wonder he left; between you and all the other freaks pulling him in so many directions, he likely was gonna get torn apart if anyone ever actually made a move on him!"

"You're right! We were ALL responsible for him leaving! And you know what? He was _right_ to! He would have died here as unhappy as the rest of us, and I can’t believe that I never saw it coming! No one ever helped him, and now, who knows if he's even alive anymore?!" Akane slapped the wall for emphasis. Unseen by either of them, a tiny spark flashed between her fingertips and the wall.

Nabiki laughed sarcastically. "Oh, please, that boy wouldn't kill himself, he's too stubborn, just like his old man."

"And so are we! We're all alike, all making the same stupid circle of mistakes over and over, and it's our own fault! We would never have the guts to leave like he did. We'll all be here forever, and _nothing! Will ever! CHANGE!”_

The sky was almost black with clouds over Nerima now. Inches of water flowed in the streets. Thunder rolled almost constantly. The wind blew, driving people out of the streets and into buildings and homes.

"Well, what can we do, Akane?! Nothing CAN ever change here! Every time something does, it ends up biting everyone else in the ass! Look where it got me! Why do you think so many folks around here just stay put and deal with the lot they’re given? It sucks, but it is what it is!”

"THAT'S NOT _FAIR_!"

Downstairs, Kasumi glanced up at the ceiling at the familiar raised voices upstairs, audible even over the wind and rain outside. Soun and Genma, in human form for a change, remained where they were at the shogi board.

Kasumi gave them a glance. "I'm a little worried, they never usually fight this loudly."

Without looking up, Soun waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, don't worry so much, Kasumi; they're sisters. Give them a while, they’ll make up. They always do.”

Kasumi furrowed her brow, staring up at the ceiling. The tick of the clock on the wall and the clack of shogi tiles seemed so much louder than usual.

"I'm going to make sure they're okay." Kasumi headed for the stairs, her house slippers moving as silently as she always had.

Nabiki pointed an accusing finger again. "Not fair? Not FAIR?! NOTHING in our lives is fair, Akane! _Fair_ would be living in a normal town! _Fair_ would be not having to worry about arranged marriages! _Fair_ would be my own sister maybe chipping her precious tournament winnings my way to maybe let me get back to the work I deserve! _FAIR_ WOULD BE THAT BASTARD YOU LOVE SO MUCH NOT STEALING ALL MY HARD WORK-"

"HE WAS _RIGHT_ TO!"

The door eased open. Kasumi’s quiet voice: "Is everything okay up here?"

At that moment, it was as if a cannon went off in Akane’s room, or a wind tunnel opened. With a loud, splintering _CRACK-A-BOOM,_ the pressure that had built up in the room that neither Akane nor Nabiki had noticed shot out, causing a massive hole to explode in the roof above their heads. The wind and rain blew in, soaking the three of them instantly.

The two sisters barely seemed to notice the downpour. Akane wiped rainwater out of her eyes. "NO ONE DESERVED HOW YOU TREATED HIM, NABIKI! PERVERT OR NOT, NO ONE DESERVES TO HAVE THEIR BODY PIMPED OUT LIKE _YOU_ DID TO HIM!"

"Oh, that’s rich! You never saw a word you saw the cameras flash! You think because you’ve had a sudden attack of conscience, that makes you better than me?” Nabiki roughly shoved Akane’s shoulder. “You don’t get to play both sides!”

"You're _right_! We _both_ are going to have to live with that! The problem is, YOU THINK YOU DID NOTHING WRONG!"

Kasumi could only stand there, too stunned to say anything. The cameras had always been known; no one could clean the house as well as she could without finding them. A thousand memories flashed through her head, of all the times she had put them right back where she found them, as if she had never been there.

The tatami mats on the floor had soaked through. Water slowly and steadily ran over the naked floorboards, between the cracks and through the insulation.

A steady _drip-drip_ of water began to plink downward, landing neatly in the center of the shogi board.

Soun blinked, the trance of the game broken. He and Genma glanced at each other, before turning their gazes upward, staring at the slowly widening wet spot in the ceiling.

Outside, the wind somehow howled even louder. Thunderclaps rolled and rolled on, lighting up the sky. It was as if a typhoon had manifested over Nerima. In the streets, trees bent in the wind, leaves being scattered along.

Soun was the first to make it up the stairs. Behind him, halfway up, Genma was slowly ascending the stairs, far less hurried or concerned than his friend. Soun caught sight of Kasumi, staring into Akane’s room, drenched. "What is happening?!"

Sparks were crackling around Akane’s hands, off of her half-submerged feet, from her shoulders. She barely noticed, and didn’t care. The white-hot anger felt like it was filling her every pore, burning her lungs, melting her throat, and she didn’t care.

Nabiki, to her credit, didn’t seem to care either. Never one to cow down from a challenge, she stayed where she was, glaring her sister down, despite the strange lightshow.

“At least I _tried,_ Akane! I _tried_ to make something of myself! What have _you_ ever done, aside from whine and knock people around for disagreeing with you?”

Akane thrust her arms to the side, the wind a deafening shriek now. “Have you not heard a word I’ve said?! I _regret it!_ I _hate_ that I treated Ranma like that, treated _anyone_ like that! The problem is that I seem to be the only one willing to do that! So no, Nabiki, I can’t forgive, and I can’t forget, because _NOBODY IS WILLING TO ADMIT TO ANYTHING THEY’VE DONE EXCEPT ME!”_

Soun pushed past Kasumi, taking in the scene before him. His daughter, so drawn into the anger he was so used to seeing from her. The hole in the roof, hemorrhaging rain. The thick, acrid stench of ozone overwhelming in the air, like burning rubber.

He thought: _This is bad. We need to get out of here, and shelter in the dojo._

Soun stepped into the massive puddle that covered the floor, placing a hand on each daughter’s shoulder. He barely stopped himself from withdrawing one hand in shock. Akane’s shoulder was warm to the touch, almost hot, making his hand tingle painfully.

Nonetheless, the gesture worked, in that Akane shifted her full attention onto him, eyes wide, brow furrowed.

Soun smiled, and said the single worst possible thing he could have said in the circumstance.

“Akane, come now. We must move past this. Let us all forgive, calm down, and pretend none of this ever happened!"

“ ** _I. SAID. NO.”_**

****

****

With a sound like a bomb going off, the entire world turned a blinding white.

~/~/~

What happened next was hard to understand.

Some thought it was the wrath of an angry god.

Others said it was hell itself opening up.

Some said it was the work of a vengeful martial artist.

Still others simply wrote it off as a freak storm.

If one had a very, very powerful camera recording the event, and slowed the footage down by several tens of thousands of times, one might be able to witness exactly what happened, if not fully understand it.

Let us imagine such an omnipresent camera was in use at the time the Tendo Compound was obliterated.

The footage is rolling. Watch carefully, now. We don’t want to miss a thing.

The scene: Akane’s room. Akane, glaring at her father. Soun, an oblivious smile on his face, his hand on Akane’s shoulder. Nabiki, giving Akane a death glare. Kasumi, in the doorway, eyes wide. Further down the hall, Genma, just now reaching the top of the stairs, with no idea of what’s been happening or what’s about to happen.

As Akane says the word “ ** _No,”_** the footage slows down to an infinitesimal pace. An untrained glance might assume it’s been paused.

The screen goes almost completely white as an enormous bolt of lightning blasts through the hole in the roof, visible for a single frame. It touches no one in the room, instead continuing straight down, through the floor, down into the living room, where it finally touches down on Soun’s shogi board, blowing the heavy piece of wood in half.

The footage is moving faster now, though we are still only moving by milliseconds.

The floor is on fire now, spreading impossibly far in the time it takes to blink. A mighty conflagration, spreading so fast, devouring every plank of wood, licking its way up the walls, consuming furniture.

In the kitchen, appliances warp and melt as if under a massive blowtorch. The blast sweeps through and past the kitchen, into the other guest room that once housed Grandmaster Happosai, and now contains only Genma’s bedroll, which is ablaze in a microsecond.

Upstairs, the blast has caused the floor to give way. Everyone is falling now, and they haven’t even realized it yet.

Soun is thrown backward into Kasumi, the two of them falling downward tangled in each other as the floorboards vanish beneath them.

Genma is bowled backward down the stairs, tumbling down even as the stairs disintegrate into cinders beneath him, one by one, yet he remains untouched.

Nabiki’s hands have flown to her face, her eyes clenched tight, her hands over her ears as her knees buckle under her.

Akane stands perfectly still and rigid, even as she descends to the first floor by way of gravity.

The Elephant, Ranma’s old room where he slept next to the father that scarred him, is gone now.

Soun’s room, right across the hall, is next.

The hallway floor breaks into splinters and burns away in the air.

In the bathroom, the water in the furo, where Akane had slapped Ranma for being naked and male when she walked in, so many years ago, boils away into vapor in a literal heartbeat.

The rooftop shingles instantly melt into slag, before crumbling away like ash just as quickly.

The walkway between the house and the dojo burns away like a fuse now, the path of simultaneous destruction leading to the dojo, which has only housed and taught a single student for the better part of a decade.

Weights disappear into nothingness, old training dummies going up like dry straw, the mats vanish in less than a second. Cheap caulking burns away from the walls, revealing the many, many holes punched into them with angry fists for half a second, before those burn away too.

The entire Tendo Compound is there one second, engulfed in flames the next, and gone the next.

Everything that has just been described takes place in less than ten seconds.

Time speeds up again. The footage proceeds as normal. The storm blows away as quickly as it came. Dark grey clouds turn to white, like a timelapse, parting to reveal blue skies.

The Tendo Compound has vanished in flames like a piece of magician’s flash paper.

All that is left is a concrete wall surrounding a vacant, grassy lot, an empty koi pond, and five figures, all alive, wondering what has just happened.

~/~/~

The deafening roar subsided.

Slowly, Akane opened her eyes.

The ground was muddy beneath her socks. Her clothes were soaked.

She glanced around her, observing her surroundings with a strange, calm detachment.

The house was gone.

Not even wreckage remained. No ruined walls, or scorched timber and stone, or even some splinters.

It was just… _gone._ An empty, grassy lot with a drained koi pond, surrounded by a concrete wall.

Genma lay sprawled on his back in panda form, knocked unconscious by the blast.

Dad was sputtering incomprehensibly, slowly turning in a circle, staring at where his house used to be, trying to comprehend what just happened.

Kasumi stood beside him, mud soaking into her house shoes. Her eyes were wide, her mouth a perfectly round O of shock.

“ _Look. What. You. Did.”_

Akane turned around, looking behind her.

There Nabiki stood, staring at her sister with a kind of disgusted awe. She sneered. “You did this, didn’t you?! Betcha feel like a real hero now, huh? You’re just like all the other freaks in this garbage town.”

An hour ago, even ten minutes ago, that insult would have caused even more rage to well up within Akane.

Right now, though? She hardly felt a thing. Some part of her dimly registered that she was likely in shock.

Akane glanced at the empty spot where the living room used to be once again. “I…”

She looked around at the lack of kitchen, the lack of dojo, the lack of entryway-

There, resting on the dirt where the entryway used to be, was her travel bag from this morning. The one she had packed to leave on a train with, yet hadn’t. Packed with a few changes of clothes, her wallet, some shoes.

It was the one singular object that had survived the destruction of the Tendo House.

The mud squelched under her as she strode toward the bag, walking quickly. She didn’t want to be here any longer than she had to, and emergency services would ask too many questions when they got here.

Behind her, Nabiki continued yelling. “ _Yeah,_ that’s right! Run away! Run off just like all your weirdo friends!” Nabiki’s voice cracked as her face grew red. “Just trash the place and run, that’s the way it goes, kids!”

Akane paused, kneeling down to retrieve the bag. It was, of course, bone dry.

Behind her, a calmer voice. “Akane.”

Akane turned to see Kasumi, her hands clasped before her. She was watching Akane with a kind of sad acceptance, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

Kasumi gave a sad half-smile. “I…”

Akane nodded. “Yeah.”

Kasumi gently stepped forward, wrapping her youngest sister in one last hug. Akane hugged her back without hesitation.

“Take care of yourself, Akane.”

“You too. Good luck.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

With one last squeeze, Kasumi released her hold, stepping back. “Go now. I’ll… I’ll do something.”

Akane gave one last nod, and turned away. She quickly walked down the path, letting the gate click shut as she left. Behind her, Nabiki continued to shout ever-more-unintelligible abuse her way, as Soun continued to babble questions to no one.

Kasumi stood, watching Akane as long as she could, clutching her apron in her hands.

Akane, walking on wet socks with a bag full of her only possessions in the world and no plan to speak of, reached the turn at the end of the street, and disappeared from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter. This is the one that I think a lot of people are going to be mad at, and you're valid if you are. But this chapter needed to happen for the story we wanted to tell. For those worried, though, don't worry. Things get better from here.
> 
> Big, big props to my sister, RhapsodicSongbird, for coming up with and writing the argument scene essentially from wholecloth and on the fly.


	4. All Along the Watchtower

**_August_ **

**_Nerima_ **

**_Aizawa Happiness Apartments_ **

**_Two days after the destruction of the Tendo Home_ **

****

The apartment was small.

If pressed, one might even say it was _very_ small.

The second-floor walkway opened to a microscopic kitchen that was barely big enough to bend over in. A squeeze through there led to the main room, about the size of a bedroom. Big enough to accommodate a bed or kotatsu, but definitely not both. Two other doors opened to a closet that was just big enough to hang clothes in and _maybe_ close the door, and a surprisingly spacious bathroom, sink and bathtub included.

The whole place had a general air of hopelessness to it, not helped much by the brown-colored walls and tan-colored curtains.

Akane Tendo, self-made ronin, allowed the travel bag containing her only possessions to fall to the floor, looking the sorry living quarters over. She tossed her keys onto the counter with a clatter.

“Honey, I’m home.”

~/~/~

That night, Akane lay on her newly-purchased bedroll, under stiff sheets that hadn’t been laundered yet. She stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, lit by the small light over the sink in the kitchen.

The two changes of clothes she had were folded neatly in the bottom of the closet, her good walking shoes in the entryway. Her towel in the bathroom with the various toiletries. Some assorted cheap convenience store food in the kitchen. Her wallet and phone, sitting on the floor next to the thick novel she had packed. Lacking any pajamas, she had opted to sleep in an oversized t-shirt she had snagged from a bargain bin.

Everything she owned in the world, now.

She’d have to do some shopping soon.

Akane had a reasonably comfortable amount in her bank account, thanks to the prizes from various tournaments she had won, but there was no way that that was anything but a temporary solution.

She’d have to find a job soon. She wondered if she was still qualified to teach Tendo-style martial arts. On the one hand, she’d essentially been the only real practitioner for the last ten years, which honestly gave her more of a right to call it hers than her father. On the other hand, the dojo where she had learned it had vanished in a freak lightning storm. Akane was fairly certain that that disqualified her pretty well, even if it was just Nabiki who decided to blame her for Mother Nature’s whims.

Those first two nights, she had stayed in a cheap hostel. Two bunk beds to a room, bunking down with strangers. The clerk had glared at her suspiciously when she checked in, in drenched formal wear and muddy stocking feet, but her yen had been good for it.

Her phone had been vibrating constantly for a while there. A few dozen missed calls from Dad, plus a few from Nabiki.

She had blocked their numbers after a few hours. The calls had ceased.

The shock had worn off in the middle of that first night. As she lay there, in the top bunk, someone she had never met snoring away a few feet beneath her, the weight of everything that had happened hit her like a truck.

_The house is gone._

_Nabiki hates me._

_I’ve left everyone behind._

_I really am alone now._

She had put her pillow over her face, stifling her sobs where no one could see her shame.

Akane had barely slept those first two nights. Her mind was a whirlwind.

Akane knew an omen when she saw it, and if the Tendo Compound burning up and blowing away in a storm wasn’t an omen, she didn’t know what was.

And yet.

Here she was. Still without the nerve to just leave Nerima in her rearview and go...

Go where?

Go anywhere. China. America. Australia, if she wanted.

Yet here she stayed.

Why?

Was it fear? Self-loathing? Some strange sense of self-flagellation for her endless mistakes?

“What’s wrong with me?” She whispered out loud. “Why can’t I just _leave?”_

The ceiling didn’t answer her.

She habitually reached her arm across the blanket, searching for P-chan’s usual warm weight, before she remembered.

Akane scowled. “Stupid Ryoga. Stupid pig-perv.”

Akane hated to admit it, but she was almost missing P-chan. Not necessarily the Ryoga aspect, more just having a pet in general.

“I should get another pet.” She spoke out loud, to no one.

_Why bother. It’ll just run off on you, or you’ll get mad at it and hurt it. Not like you can afford a pet right now anyway. The point of all this is to save money, remember?_

She rolled over on her side, glaring at the electrical socket in the wall. Outside, a light drizzle of rain began to fall.

“Stupid Ryoga. Stupid Ranma. Stupid Mousse. Stupid Kuno. Stupid _Men.”_

Her breath hitched slightly under the blanket. She squeezed her pillow tightly until the urge to sob faded away.

She sighed.

“Stupid _me.”_

~/~/~

A car horn honked, long and loud in the street outside, bringing her back to wakefulness. At some point in the night, sleep had finally taken her.

The sun was up. It was midmorning. Part of her panicked for just a moment, thinking she’d overslept her usual alarm to get up early and go spar in the dojo.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes blearily. She hauled herself to her feet and trudged into the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, she brushed her teeth, thinking back on the last few days.

Akane knew she had gotten past everything far too quickly. She should still be absolutely wrecked that her house, the home she had grown up in, was completely gone. Her family was homeless now, and who knew where they even were.

So why did she feel so… _relieved?_

The answer was simple:

Something had changed.

Something in this frozen, stagnant, unmoving town had finally _changed,_ and there was the proof.

Granted, Akane would have preferred that change having been from something concrete that _she_ had done, rather than what insurance companies would call an Act Of God, but the point stood.

She knew the others would be fine. Dad had his town council paycheck, Nabiki had hers. The house was probably insured too, if she knew Nabiki’s mindset. They’d be fine, find somewhere else to live. Who knows, maybe this would even spark Dad to give Genma the boot.

None of them were the type for revenge, so no need to worry about that either.

Akane spat into the sink, rinsing her mouth out as she thought.

“I could hunt down Kuno, become a gold digger.”

A long pause, followed by a loud, genuine laugh.

“HA! No. I would rather die.”

She plopped down on her bedroll, the giant t-shirt fluttering down around her.

She felt… not _good,_ nowhere near good, but definitely better than she had.

Akane was free. Or at least, freer than she had been. There was a certain liberation in losing everything, in starting over.

She stared at the ceiling, thinking to herself.

_If I’m starting over, I need to commit._

_That means… trying connections. Mending fences, if I can._

Not with her family. She was positive about that one. She needed to not be around them any more than she already had. They’d drag her back down with them, back to old habits and trenches.

Ranma was a lost cause. Who knew where he even was.

Same with Ukyo and Konatsu. Akane was fairly certain they wouldn’t want to talk to her even if she approached them.

Shampoo and Mousse… left too bad a taste in Akane’s mouth.

That left exactly two people.

After their bridge-burning argument years ago, she had impulsively deleted Yuka and Sayuri’s numbers from her phone in a fit of anger. She was pretty certain they’d likely done the same.

A few minutes of browsing Bookface later, she found them.

Yuka had become a gym teacher at a high school on the other side of Tokyo.

Sayuri had moved to Osaka with her wife. She worked IT at a law firm.

Akane’s thumbs hovered over her phone’s keyboard, the familiar guilt settling over like a hot blanket. Sweat prickled the back of her neck, like shame crawling down her back.

She placed the phone down in her lap, and tried to think.

Long and hard, she tried to recall that final argument with the two who used to be her best friends.

_The details were hazy._

_They had been on the sidewalk, a few blocks from Furinkan High._

_It was overcast, dark clouds hanging overhead._

_She could see Yuka and Sayuri glaring back at her. Sayuri spoke, silently moving her mouth._

_Akane remembered flinging her arm to the side, yelling back at them about something._

_Yuka gasped, hand flying over her mouth, eyes filling with tears._

That was all Akane could remember.

A friendship-ending argument, and she couldn’t even remember what it had been about. Only the outcome.

She hesitated, then picked her phone back up, typing a message slowly.

She had to try.

**From: Akane Tendo**

**Hey. I know I hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know I used to be a very angry, destructive person, and I’m sorry if I ever hurt you.**

She copied the message, then thumbed the Send button. A paste to the other Messaging box, and Sent.

Akane placed the phone down, deliberately withdrawing her hands.

All there was to do now was wait. She stepped into the kitchen to make herself an early lunch, and immediately froze as her socks instantly soaked through in the puddle she’d stepped into.

The poorly-made walkway outside was slanted just enough to allow the rain from the previous night to trickle in under her front door, the rainwater pooling in her kitchen.

Akane sighed, suppressed a repulsed shiver at her wet socks, and went to fetch her towel.

~/~/~

The day dragged by. Akane passed the time by browsing a few job applications on her phone, and making some progress in the heavy novel she had.

Sayuri didn’t respond at all. When Akane checked next, there was only a small check mark and the word **_Seen_** next to her message.

Yuka’s message was short, and to the point.

**From: Yuka**

**You did. Thank you for apologizing. Don’t message me again.**

Akane’s heart sank as she clicked the phone off, letting it slide from her hands onto the bedroll.

She had known that this would be a possibility from the outset, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Her scalp and back itched. This apartment was so hot, even with the tiny AC unit going full blast.

~/~/~

**_A few days later…_ **

“I’m sorry, I don’t really think you’re a good fit for this company.”

“Unfortunately, you don’t have the experience required for this job.”

“We’ll contact you if the day comes that we need a bodyguard or something.”

“Do you have any references? Any qualifications? Any experience? A single prior job?”

“Don’t call us, we won’t call you.”

“Please leave.”

Akane growled to herself as she stepped outside. Six job interviews, six busts.

Unfortunately, years of experience in fighting martial artists and a galaxy of tournament wins didn’t mean much to the hiring manager of the cheap little store in the mini-mall under the train station that sold off-brand watches and purses. Still, she had been at least hoping that little convenience store, or the ramen bar would give her a glance.

She barely restrained herself from kicking a hole in a trash can as she strode back to her tiny apartment.

_Look on the bright side. Once the money runs out, I can just drift between all-night manga cafes for the rest of eternity._

She pushed the door to her apartment opened, the door thwacking against the counter as it always did, rattling the knob just a little bit looser.

“Honey, I’m home.” She droned to no one, kicking her shoes off and flopping onto her bedroll, deflating with a frustrated sigh.

She rolled over, glaring at the ceiling. The familiar blanket of negativity began to settle over her. Anger. Irritation. Depression. Guilt.

Loneliness.

Akane glanced around at the empty single room apartment, occupied by one singular tenant with no friends or family.

With a sigh, she hauled herself to her feet.

~/~/~

“Excuse me, what’s the policy on pets here?”

The ancient landlord, who resembled nothing more or less than a walking chewed piece of gum, slowly turned his head, cupping his hand around his ear. “Eh?”

“I said, what’s the policy on pets?”

“Eh?”

“What’s- What’s the policy on pets?!!?” She asked, louder this time.

“Eh?”

“I SAID WHAT’S THE PET POLICY.”

“Eh?”

“I SAID BONJOUR, OJI-SAN, MY NAME IS GOKU AND I WILL LECTURE YOU IN THE NAME OF MARS.”

“Eh?”

“COOL, THANKS.”

~/~/~

Akane stood dully in the lobby of the Nerima animal shelter, staring blankly as the bored receptionist slowly dinked away at her keyboard keys with two fingers. Two hallways stretched out before her on either side of the desk. To the right, an echoing cacophony of barks and woofs. To the left, comparative silence, but process of elimination dictated it was probably the cat section.

“And have you ever adopted from us before?” The receptionist mumbled, not even bothering to disguise her apathy.

Akane shook her head. “No, never. I had a pet pig, but he-“

“Yes, fascinating.” The receptionist waved a hand in the direction of the two pet wings. “Dogs on the right, cats on the left. Go nuts.”

Akane gave her a glare. “Thanks.” She snarked.

She gave a glance to the dog section, before moving toward the cat section. Dogs were awesome, she adored the Hibiki’s dog Checkers, but they needed more room than she had in the apartment. Cats were quiet, self-sufficient, and better with smaller living quarters, she had read.

_If I don’t find anything, maybe I’ll try and get in touch with Akari. She’d probably have a piglet she’d be okay with parting with. Assuming it’s not another Jusenkyo curse in disguise._

Thinking about having another pet pig put Akane in another foul mood as she rounded the corner to the cat kennels. That ever-present guilt weighed heavily in her chest, like a bad heart with clogged veins.

Akane barely glanced at the kennels as she trudged along. Far quieter than the dog wing, the cats mostly lounged lazily, a few meowing loudly for attention as she passed.

_Just leave. Just go now, before you get attached to something else. You’ll just break its heart, or get mad and hurt it, or something worse will-_

Akane froze.

_You didn’t see that. You. Didn’t. See that._

Akane slowly took a single step backward, her eyes sliding back to one of the kennels. She suddenly realized how dry her mouth was.

A lilac-colored cat lay there in the kennel, eyes drooping and half-open from some combination of boredom and hopelessness. Her ears, tail, and paws were a familiar, deeper purple color, with small bands near the top of the coloration, as if the cat were wearing socks. A familiar set of small bells dangled from its fur, like pigtails.

As Akane stood there, staring, the cat’s eyes flicked over to look at her.

After several seconds, its eyes grew wide, now somewhere between panicked and desperately hopeful.

The cat leapt to its feet and began meowing at her loudly, her claws clinking against the bars as she dragged them down.

“ _Meow! Raow! Meow-ow! Raooww!”_

Akane leaned downward, her own eyes just as wide. A low horror was rising in her stomach. She desperately wanted to look away, to deny what she was looking at, but she couldn’t.

“Sh… Shampoo?”

And, oh dear god, the cat _nodded_ , her bells jingling as her head nodded rapidly.

“ _Meow! Meow-meow!”_

Akane’s hands crept over her mouth. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my- hang on! I’ll be right back, I promise!” She began to run down the hallway back toward the front desk, her shoes clacking loudly on the tile floor. “Excuse me, ma’am?! Ma’am!!!”

~/~/~

Shampoo clung tightly to Akane’s shoulder as she speedily walked home.

Akane felt Shampoo’s untrimmed claws dig into her shoulder and didn’t care.

Some gave the girl hurriedly walking with an unrestrained cat odd looks, but no one pried. Akane had resolutely refused the offered pet carrier, paying the adoption fee without hesitating and walking out with the purple cat in her arms.

Shampoo held onto her like a life preserver in a flood. The occasional, whimpered _Raow_ occasionally slipped out, her eyes closed tightly.

Akane gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I know, I know. I’ve got you. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

She took the concrete stairs two by two to her apartment, quickly unlocking the door and stepping in. She hip-checked the door shut behind her, not letting Shampoo go as she bumped the light switch with an elbow.

“Hang on just a minute, Shampoo. We’ll get you some hot water and you can be-“

Akane winced as she felt Shampoo’s claws tighten against her. Shampoo shook her head quickly, eyes wide, her fur spiking along her back. “ _MEOW! RAOW! RAOW-OW! RAOW!”_

Akane’s blinked rapidly as she adjusted her hold on the cat, looking at her from arms length. “Woah, woah, okay, easy. No hot water?”

“ _Meow.”_

“Okay, cool. Gotcha. No hot water for you.”

Shampoo relaxed in Akane’s grip, relieved. Now confused more than anything, Akane walked over to her bedroll, kneeling down.

Akane gently placed Shampoo down on the sheets. Shampoo’s little cat eyes widened at the sudden softness, far softer than that kennel she’d been in. She nimbly stretched out, her paws stretching and wiggling, before curling up on her stomach.

Akane lay down next to her, gently stroking one hand along her purple fur. “Are you okay?”

Shampoo shook her head. “ _Meow.”_ Nonetheless, she nuzzled her head closer to Akane’s chin.

The message was obvious: _Not okay, but better now that I’m with you._

“What happened? Why don’t you want to go back to human mode?”

Shampoo shook her head, before opening her mouth, displaying her fangs. She stuck her rough cat tongue out, holding it there as she look at Akane.

Akane blinked confusedly. “You lost me.”

Rolling her eyes, Shampoo pawed at her own tongue.

Akane shook her head, trying to piece the message together. “Tongue. Your tongue. Rough tongue. Licking. Hairball.”

Shampoo withdrew her tongue, somehow managing to glare at Akane as she shook her head.

Akane continued guessing. “Cat got your tongue, tongue of a cat, cat’s tongue-“

Shampoo straightened up, nodding quickly.

_Cat’s Tongue? Cat’s Tongue what-_

An old memory suddenly surfaced in Akane’s head as she put two and two together. She gasped. “The Full-Body Cat Tongue?”

Another nod from Shampoo. “Raow.”

The Full-Body Cat Tongue. A ki-manipulating pressure point, used by the Amazons to punish wrongdoers with Jusenkyo curses. Ranma had been struck with it for a time, many years ago. The pressure point caused an extreme sensitivity to heat, causing even lukewarm water to feel scalding, effectively locking someone into their cursed form, unable to change back without extreme pain.

The only known cures were to either take a Phoenix Pill, of which the Amazons were the only makers; or to force your body past its own attempts to save itself from what felt like scalding water, and endure the pain that came after.

This was a technique that was a long-held secret among the Amazon tribe. Very few were taught how to use it.

One of those few being the same one who had used it on Ranma.

Akane leaned close. “Did Cologne do this to you?”

Shampoo’s eyes grew downcast. A slow, sad nod.

Shampoo. Cologne’s own great-granddaughter. Modelocked, and abandoned.

“Oh, God. Oh, Shampoo…” Akane reached out, gathering Shampoo’s feline form in her arms, hugging her closely to her chest.

Shampoo curled up in her onetime rival’s arms, two paws gently clutching around Akane’s hand.

~/~/~

That night, Akane lay awake in her bedroll, staring once again at the ceiling.

Shampoo was curled up on her chest, asleep. Her weight against Akane was oddly comforting.

Akane gently stroked one hand down her back. In her sleep, Shampoo purred gently, a soft rumble.

Akane had read once what a cat’s purr actually meant. Rather than an expression of comfort, it was a plea.

_Don’t go. Please stay._

Just a few hours ago, Akane had resented Shampoo and Mousse, for apparently running off back to China and abandoning her without even a goodbye.

That resentment had now been thrown for a loop. Never mind those feelings of abandonment she once felt, this was far more important.

How long had Shampoo been modelocked, and left in that shelter? Weeks? Months?

Was that why she vanished in the first place? Was her never showing up for their date a big misunderstanding?

Shampoo, one of the strongest people she knew. Locked in cat form, and left behind, by someone who should have cared for her.

The idea made Akane’s blood boil.

~/~/~

**_The Next Afternoon_ **

Shampoo sat on the counter, glaring into the sink. Her tail slowly waved back and forth behind her.

The Kitchen Destroyer had filled her in on what had happened to the Tendo Compound this morning, and why she was living in this tiny apartment. She had gone out to try for a couple more job interviews, and get Shampoo some real food.

In the living room area was Akane’s phone, tuned to a TubeTube playlist of some music to keep Shampoo company while she was gone. Shampoo hadn’t been able to turn it off with her paw when she grew tired of it, so she’d left it playing as she explored their living quarters.

Having leapt onto the counter, she fumbled her paws around the hot water handle, awkwardly trying to turn it. She couldn’t move it much, but it was enough.

A gentle trickle of water began to fall from the faucet.

She waited for almost a full minute, waiting for the temperature to increase.

She had to change back. Even if the Full Body Cat Tongue made it painful, she had to try. She couldn’t spend any longer in this form. She missed walking on two legs, missed being able to talk. Wanted to be able to wrap Akane in such an enormous, grateful hug when she walked back through that door.

She could feel the heat radiating off the stream of water now.

Shampoo logically knew it must be lukewarm at best, but it felt just so incredibly hot.

She steeled herself, her fur spiking down her back.

_Just rip it off like a band-aid. It’ll hurt for a little bit, then you’ll never have to worry about it again. Probably._

She began to lean forward, ready to stick her tiny head under the water, and _Oh God, it was so hot, it was like standing right next to a roaring bonfire, painful just from the proximity-_

She couldn’t. She couldn’t.

Shampoo’s catlike fight-or-flight reflexes kicked in, and she skittered backward across the counter, away from the sink.

She glared at the sink, the slits in her eyes narrowing, letting out an irritated hiss.

After a moment to regain her composure, she slunk back toward the sink. She bungled her paws around the handle, carefully turning the water back off.

Okay. So she was stuck in Cat Mode for the foreseeable future. She could work with that. But she and Akane still needed to get out there, and find-

Akane slipped through the door into the kitchen, a grocery bag in hand. “I’m back!”

Shampoo hopped down from her spot on the counter, her eyes full of smiles. “Raow! Meow-ow!” She trilled.

Akane smiled. “Someone missed me!” She sat the shopping bag on the counter, fishing out her purchases. A notebook, a small pot of ink, an extra towel, some nail clippers, and an assortment of pork buns.

She began taking apart one of the pork buns, putting the mess of dough and meat on a plastic plate. “I got the plain ones. I don’t know if the stuff that’s toxic to cats is the same to cursed cat forms, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Shampoo made a sour face, but gave an accepting nod. It was at least better than the off-off-brand Frisky Bitz the shelter fed her.

Akane knelt down, placing the plate on the ground, along with a bowl of water from the tap. “Here ya go, some actual food. Bon Appetit.”

Shampoo dug into the mangled pork bun like it was manna from heaven, gnashing her fangs in evident delight. Akane let herself slide down to sit on the floor, her back against the rickety cabinet as she watched Shampoo eat her first real meal in months.

As Shampoo lapped up the water, Akane reached up, snagging the notebook and nail clippers. “I want to try something, if you’re up for it. Might be a way we can communicate beyond you nodding or shaking your head. But I need to trim your claws first.”

Shampoo sat down, somehow cocking one eye to the side. “ _Meow?!”_

Akane sighed. “Look, Shampers, I get it. It’s weird, me trimming your nails. But your claws are gonna get long enough that they’ll start hurting you soon, and I doubt you want to use a scratching post. We gotta do it.”

Shampoo regarded one of her paws, extending her claws to take a proper look at them. True enough, they were getting long, and more than a little raggedy from all the time she’d spent clawing at the bars of the kennel.

She let out a small, kitty sigh, and nodded. “Rao.”

Which is how Shampoo found herself sitting in Akane’s lap, her lower paws poking upward, as Akane held one paw between finger and thumb with surprising gentleness. Akane carefully trimmed each claw, snipping the excess off with a light _click._

This was… actually surprisingly nice. Akane’s lap was hard, due to the muscle in her legs, but also very comfortable.

Akane paused, glancing down amusedly. “Are you _purring_ again?”

Shampoo’s eyes widened as she realized the indignity: _she was._

She glared up at Akane. “ _Raaooowwwwwwww.”_

Akane giggled, nonplussed by the kitty’s attempt to be threatening. “Oh shush, you’re super cute.” She kissed the top of Shampoo’s furry noggin.

If cats could blush.

Shampoo’s head spun, as she internally sputtered, barely realizing she was purring even louder. One ear flicked in irritation.

_Nooooo! This can’t be happening! I’m a proud ex-Amazon warrior, I can’t be brought to my knees like this!_

Still chuckling, Akane set down the nail clippers, brushing the nail clippings off of her skirt and stockings. “All done!” She sat Shampoo down on all fours. “How’s that feel?”

Blinking, Shampoo took a few experimental steps, squeezing and unsqueezing her claws. To her surprise, it felt much better, like getting rid of a stiffness she hadn’t even realized was there.

She turned back to Akane, giving a satisfied nod. “Meow.”

Akane smiled. “Okay, good.” That business accomplished, Akane set about putting together their experiment. “I saw this in an American cartoon on public access when I was a kid.”

Shampoo watched curiously as Akane spread the new towel out on the floor, then opened the notebook to a blank page. She unscrewed the wide lid to the inkpot, setting it carefully next to the notebook. With a flourish, she gestured to the entire setup. “Ta-da! Want to give it a shot?”

Wide eyed, Shampoo took a few careful steps forward, sitting down elegantly in front of the page. Moving slowly, she carefully dipped one paw into the inkpot, her slender paw just barely fitting through the hole. She felt ink soak into her fur, a sharp smell like markers filling the air, making her ears and nose twitch.

It was slow work, moving her paw to write the kanji she needed, like a child fingerpainting. After a moment, though, she sat back on her haunches, one inky paw staining the towel. Akane leaned in, staring at the smudged, black words.

**Nihao, Akane.**

Akane smiled, that cute little toothy grin that made Shampoo’s heart do a bunny-hop. “There we go! Want to keep going?”

“ _Raow.”_ Shampoo nodded, leaning back toward the inkpot for a re-dunk.

“What happened? Why did Cologne modelock you?”

**It was after I asked you out. Great-Grandmother said I was a failure to the tribe for not getting Ranma. Said we were going back to China. I said no. So Great-Grandmother gave me the FBCT and splashed me. Told me I was officially exiled. Put me in a cat carrier and dropped me off at the shelter.**

_She’s a lot more eloquent in writing,_ Akane mused to herself.

“Shampoo, that’s so horrible.” Akane gently stroked her hand down Shampoo’s back, along her soft fur. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Shampoo shook her head as she pressed her back against Akane’s hand, relishing the human contact. “ _Raow.”_

Akane thought for a moment. “What about Mousse? Where is he?”

Akane could see Shampoo slump, her ears flattening against her skull in sadness.

_Oh no._

Shampoo motioned for her to turn to a new page before continuing.

**Mousse stood up for me to Great-Grandmother. She gave him the FBCT too. Said he was also banished for failures.**

A long pause, then:

**Don’t know what happened to him.**

Akane’s heart sank.

Mousse, modelocked and in the wind.

Had Cologne dragged him back to China? Given him to a zoo?

The words _Peking Duck_ surfaced in Akane’s mind, and she promptly smothered that thought before it could grow stronger in her brain.

_No. None of that. Not even Cologne could be that cruel._

Though granted, she hadn’t thought Cologne could be _this_ cruel, either.

Akane’s hands gravitated to her head, her palms pressing against her temples as she clenched her own hair. “Of course. Of course. Why am I not surprised? It’s like every time I think this rotten town couldn’t get any lower, Hello again, it came with a shovel and ready to dig.”

Shampoo’s sensitive ear flicked as she heard something. She cocked her head to the side, listening.

Nearby, somewhere she couldn’t place, was a low hiss. Like rain, or static.

She shot Akane a glance. “Raow?”

The martial artist didn’t notice her, standing to her feet, beginning to pace rapidly, restlessly.

“I get stuck here for my own wasted potential, y’know what, fine, whatever. But, what the actual Hell?!” Akane wasn’t even sure who she was ranting at. The universe? God? Herself? She could feel that familiar acid rising in her gut. Above her, the single overhead light flickered gently.

“Holy smokes, why is this stupid town like this?! _Whoops, sorry, my grandkid didn’t convince our target to marry her, guess I gotta abandon her!_ ” Akane shot an incredulous glance at Shampoo. “I mean, is it me?! Am I the crazy one?!!?”

The sound was louder now, the hiss growing louder and louder. Shampoo could feel her back beginning to prickle. The overhead light was flickering quicker now, almost like a weak strobe, flashing in the corners.

Akane paid no heed, her anger rising as she continued to circle the room, her pacing slowly transitioning to stomping. “I must be! Between not noticing my pet pig was a Jusenkyo curse for like six years, knocking holes in walls every time I decide to throw a temper tantrum, and refusing to leave this stupid town no matter how freaking hot it gets or how many weirdo rainstorms blow through! Nabiki was right, I’m as crazy as every other martial artist here!”

Rain was pattering against the window now, gentle raindrops from an evening sky that had been clear just a few minutes ago. Shampoo took a few cautious steps backward, glancing around with alarm. The light was actively flashing now, the disorienting flashes casting the apartment in a constantly retreating and advancing darkness.

“The only thing that does change around here is when people _leave!_ If Japan slid into the ocean tomorrow, this stupid town would still be here, and me along with it, because nothing outside of a freaking meteor strike turning this Ward into a crater will ever! Change! _Anything!!!”_

Akane glared up at the flashing overhead light with murder in her eyes, smacking one hand against the wall. “ _AND WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE LIGHTS?!!?”_

With a sudden low, descending _HUMMMMmmmmmmmmmm,_ every light in the building went out.

Akane stood there in the darkness, frozen, her anger suddenly drowned.

“Okay. That was weird.”

“ _Meow! Raow!”_

Akane squinted as her eyes adjusted in the darkness. Shampoo sat on her back legs, gesturing wildly downward, in front of Akane.

Akane glanced down. “What-“

She froze, once again, barely able to understand what she was seeing, much less believe it.

It wouldn’t have been visible in the brighter light, but it was easy to see here, in the darkness of a power outage on a cloudy evening.

Small, silent sparks flashed along Akane’s fingers. A small, painless current, flickering gently from her palms, around her knuckles, before popping into nothingness at her fingertips.

Akane breathed softly, in and out, her eyes wide. There was a faint smell, like the glass screen of an old TV that had just been turned off.

She suddenly became aware of an odd feeling inside of her. A strange… _warmth_ , a comforting feeling. She could almost feel it, gently pumping from her chest and through her arms.

Akane sank to her knees, staring at Shampoo. “You see this, right?”

Shampoo nodded rapidly. “Meow, Meow.”

Akane blinked, staring at her hands. “Is this… _Ki?”_

~/~/~

The rooftop of Aizawa Happiness Apartments was flat and fenced-in, open to the tenants as a common and recreation area. The sky above them was dark and cloudy, though some hints of orange sunset to the west suggested that it was soon to blow over.

Akane stood at one end of the roof, her fingers interlaced through the fence. Shampoo sat comfortably in the crook of one elbow, staring along with her.

For a block in every direction, the electricity was out. Various apartments and storefronts stood dark, the occasional car honk from the street below. A perfect circle, with Aizawa Happiness Apartments in the center.

The official word online was that a transformer had likely short-circuited, cutting power to the neighborhood. Repairs were underway.

Akane stared out at the darkened houses. “Hope everyone’s okay.”

Shampoo nodded. “Raow.”

There was silence for several seconds, as Akane gathered her thoughts.

“I really did destroy my house, huh.”

“Raow.”

Akane took a deep breath, in and out. “I’m gonna have to get this under control. I don’t want this to get too serious.”

Shampoo craned her head, looking up at Akane. “Meow?”

Akane gave her a grim look. “I mean, think about it. An EMP today, a destroyed house earlier this week.” She stared out at the other buildings, contemplating. “How big do you think it can go? Especially if it happens when I get mad.”

She had a point. Shampoo chirped gently as she hopped down from Akane’s grasp, sitting down on the ground next to her. “Raow.”

Akane sighed deeply, squeezing the links of the fence in her fingers. “Yeah. Okay. So I have Ki now. Sure. Why not.”

She took another deep breath as Shampoo watched. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Akane suddenly leaned backward, stretching her hands towards the skies. “Come to me, Ki mastery!” She called into the heavens. “Conveniently awaken my powers within me!!!”

It was hard for a cat to do a face-fault, but Shampoo pulled it off with panache, her tail flying upward.

Akane glanced back out around the perimeter of the building. The neighborhood was still dark.

She thrust one hand forward. “Boom!”

Nothing.

She shoved another hand upward, in a different position. “Shazam!”

Nothing.

“Zap! Voila! In reverse! Turn on! Powers of Thor! Ka-me-ha-me-ha!”

She waggled her fingers at the fence, squinting awkwardly, as if trying to focus. “Piiiiii-kaaaaaaaa- _chuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!”_

A single spark of static leapt from the fence to her finger.

“Ouch!” She withdrew her hands, waggling the zapped one in front of her. She shot Shampoo a huge grin. “Hey! I did it!”

There was a gentle _pomf_ as Shampoo facepawed.

~/~/~

That evening, Akane chewed on a mouthful of bland cup noodles, lost in thought. Her phone was sitting on the floor before the both of them, playing some DIY TubeTube channel just as something to pass the time. Akane was barely paying attention to it, more preoccupied staring out the window, at the slowly-dispersing clouds.

Shampoo could hardly blame Akane for being so silent. Ki was… an interesting beast, much less learning that yours could cause destructive lightning storms and electrical failures. Hence why they were sitting in the dark, Akane eating cup noodles she’d heated up at the convenience store a few blocks away and then carried back, Shampoo quietly noshing on another mangled pork bun.

Shampoo wasn’t stupid. She knew what Akane must be going through right now. This, on top of the guilt she was clearly still carrying, guilt that got heavier and heavier with each misstep.

Shampoo’s tail gently flicked as she thought, staring up at the girl who, four months and an eternity ago, she had asked on a date that had never come to be.

Four months in a small kennel, let out occasionally to stretch her legs in the common area and… _debase_ herself using the communal litterbox. Eating dry, vaguely chicken-flavored pellets that she wouldn’t feed her worst enemy.

Four months of no idea where Akane or Mousse, her best friend, were. Four months of not knowing if she’d ever see anyone she knew ever again.

There were times Shampoo was fine with her cat form. Loved it, even. Being small, cute, and agile had some grand perks sometimes.

This was not one of those times.

Shampoo felt like she was about to claw her own skin off, just to get away from it.

She sighed.

There was only one thing to do.

She pawed Akane’s pants leg gently. “Meow?”

Akane blinked, pulled from her reverie. She looked down at Shampoo, her mouth full of noodles. “Mmm? What’s up, Shampers?”

~/~/~

Akane turned the Warm Water knob of the bathtub backward, shutting off the water flow. She stepped backward, thankful for the weirdly spacious nature of this apartment’s bathroom, lit spookily by the flashlight on her phone.

The tub was half-full of lukewarm water. Though it would have felt somewhat pleasant to Akane, Shampoo was almost unconsciously curling away from it, back against the toilet tank as she sat on the lid.

Akane gave Shampoo a cautious glance. “Are you sure about this, Shampoo? You can back out and I wouldn’t blame you one bit.”

Shampoo gave a slow, careful nod, not taking her eyes off of the tub, which might as well have been a volcano as far as her nerves were concerned.

“I’m gonna have to dunk you, you know. We can’t do this halfway. No sense in burning you for no reason, y’know.”

“Raow.”

“And this’ll cure the Cat Tongue, right? Like, it’ll hurt a lot, but it’ll cure it, right?”

Shampoo turned and looked at her, moving her torso and neck in what Akane assumed was the cat approximation of a shrug.

“Hoo boy.”

Akane placed a reassuring hand on Shampoo’s back. “Are you ready?”

Shampoo stared at the water grimly. Honestly, the answer was no. She’d heard horror stories about breaking the Full Body Cat Tongue the hard way, and none of them were pleasant. Part of her would be perfectly fine with simply sitting here staring at the water forever.

But her more logical side knew: it was lukewarm, which meant it wouldn’t be long before it started cooling and they’d have to wait even longer while the tub drained and refilled again.

Better to just… do it. The pain would be temporary.

Shampoo looked at Akane with a tremulous nod. “R-raow.”

Akane nodded. “Okay.”

She took a deep breath.

Then, not giving either of them a chance to hesitate, Akane quickly scooped Shampoo from the toilet lid, Shampoo’s eyes clamping shut as Akane shoved her form beneath the warm surface of the water.

The effect was immediate. Water was instantly flung everywhere as Shampoo’s human form erupted out of the shallow water, drenching Akane as she was knocked to the side. Shampoo was screaming, deep, bloodcurdling howls of pain as she stumbled, naked, out of the water, falling to the hard tile floor.

It was so much worse than she had imagined. Every inch of her skin was on fire. Her every muscle sang out in agony as her whole body constricted on itself, the whiplash from a very complicated magic pressure point blasting across her body. Her soaked purple hair stuck to her face, making her itch on top of the screams and the tears.

Akane immediately leapt into action. She grabbed her other towel, running it under the cold faucet of the sink. She dropped painfully to her knees and immediately flung the cold, wet towel over Shampoo’s form. Not enough to drench her and activate the curse, Shampoo felt some relief from the wet towel’s soothing touch, her skin not burning as much anymore.

Akane gently guided Shampoo’s head into her lap, beginning to carefully guide the wet towel over Shampoo’s skin, easing her pain the best she could. Shampoo grasped two tight fistfuls of Akane’s shirt.

“It’s okay, Shampoo. I’ve got you. It’s okay. I know it hurts. I’ve got you.”

Shampoo sobbed a string of Mandarin into her lap, before swallowing roughly. “K-Kane… it hurts… it _hurts_ …”

“I know, Shampoo, I know. I’m so sorry. I’ve got you.”

Shampoo wept into Akane’s lap, as Akane tended to her pink, warm skin to the best of her abilities. Akane’s hand moved to Shampoo’s, who clutched it tightly, as if she would disappear if she let go.

The two sat there, in the dark, clutching each other for the first time in months.

Eventually, Shampoo’s sobs turned to slow, deep breaths.

Akane gently squeezed her hand. “Are you okay?”

Shampoo hiccupped gently as her breath hitched. “B-better. Hurt everywhere.”

Suddenly, the light in the living room turned on as the power was restored, casting a light through the open door into the bathroom, illuminating the two lost women on the floor.

Shampoo gave a weary chuckle, despite herself. “Heh… hey… you do that, Pikachu?”

Akane laughed, shaking her head, carefully reaching down and giving Shampoo a gentle hug as the two giggled on the floor.

For the first time in a very long time, things felt like they were maybe, just maybe, going to be okay.


	5. April Interlude: Nasty, Brutish, and Short

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter contains a scene of physical violence between an older guardian and their charges, as well as blood. Please use your own best judgement before reading.

**_Four Months Earlier_ **

**_18 Months after Ranma’s Disappearance_ **

**_One Evening in April_ **

****

_“How about this. You meet Shampoo at train station tomorrow at noon, yes? We go into Tokyo. Lunch? Maybe a movie?”_

_Shampoo smiled softly as that adorable blush slowly crept its way across the Kitchen Destroyer’s cheeks. Shampoo didn’t dare show it, but her heart was pounding inside her chest in anticipation._

_Akane slowly reached out, gently interlacing her hand with Shampoo’s. “I… I’d like that, Shampoo. I think I’d like that a lot.”_

_Shampoo barely contained herself from squealing for joy. She instead maintained the cool act she’d been putting up, giving a confident nod. “It a date then, ‘Kane.”_

_With a cocky grin, Shampoo stuffed her hands into the pockets of the royal purple leather jacket she was wearing, quickly stepping backward to the front door of the Cat Café. Sliding it open, she flashed Akane a grin. “Your treat.”_

_Akane sputtered as she raised a playfully accusing finger. “Wh- wait a minute! You asked me out, why am I the one paying?!”_

_“I not the one who wins a bunch of tournaments and gets prize money, no?” Shampoo gave her one last wink and a grin, before easing inside the Cat Café, shutting the door behind her._

_In the dark restaurant, Shampoo leaned against the door. She looked down at her open hand, and sighed, a smitten smile playing across her face._

_It was odd, but the Tendo Heiress had somehow become a lot less bullheaded since Ranma had left. Granted, she seemed a lot sadder these days, but comparatively less likely to resort to physical violence against someone when she didn’t get her way._

_Shampoo hated to say it, but she knew it was likely specifically because Ranma, Akane’s usual punching bag, had left so abruptly that had caused such a shift in Akane. For a while there, Akane had been in such a rut that Shampoo would not have been surprised for an instant if she had fired off one of the Stupid Lost Boy’s Shi Shi Hokodans. Akane and Ryoga were surprisingly alike, bottling up their own negative emotions until it spilled out in a surge of destruction._

_Still, Akane seemed comparatively happier these days, or at least, not as sad. And the fact that she was suddenly so willing to ask about… that day in Ucchan’s? If that wasn’t a good omen, Shampoo didn’t know what was._

_With a small, satisfied chuckle, Shampoo locked the front door of the empty restaurant behind her, and began to flounce toward the stairs leading up to the upstairs apartment she shared with Mousse and-_

_“And what precisely do you call that display outside?”_

_Shampoo’s mood instantly soured, a harsh sigh puffing out. “Great-Grandmother,” she switched to Mandarin._

_Cologne sat at one of the Cat Café’s booths, her fingers steepled, a single light over her head. She glared at Shampoo with an irritation that had become more and more commonplace in the last two years._

_“Sit down, child.”_

_Shampoo turned, a dully sarcastic look in her eyes. Her obedience and tolerance for the Elder Amazon had long run out. “Nice to see you too, Great-Grandmother. The deliveries went well, thank you for asking.”_

_“Don’t you take that tone with me, child.” Cologne voice was low, and dangerous. “I heard everything. You just asked the Tendo Heiress on a date.”_

_“Sure did.”_

_It was hard to tell with the untrained eye, but Shampoo knew Cologne well enough to know the difference between her usual strict tone, and actual anger._

_This? Cologne was genuinely seething._

_“First, you fail to dispatch the Saotome boy when he defeated you in girl mode. Then, you allow yourself to be beaten by him in boy mode. Then, you spent three solid years failing to gain his hand in marriage for the tribe, or even dispatch a single rival.”_

_Shampoo continued to stare her down, not giving an inch of ground._

_Cologne continued to list Shampoo’s failures. “Then, you allow him to vanish into the world, beyond even the Tribe’s reach. And now, when I think you could not possibly dishonor me or your tribe any further, I find you consorting with the one you once considered your greatest enemy.”_

_Cologne pointed an accusing finger at Shampoo. “You’re a disgrace to the Amazons, child.”_

_Her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Shampoo gave a snide, exasperated scoff. “You still think we ever had a chance to get Ranma?”_

_“We would have, had you done as I said. It wouldn’t have been that hard. If you had simply done as I said, we would have had Ranma back at the village years ago. Instead, you insisted on playing cat-and-mouse, chasing him in circles, until he finally fled once again.”_

_“Wake up, Great-Grandmother! I never had a chance with Ranma, much less wanted one.” Shampoo laughed incredulously. “I can’t believe I spent so many years of my life, most of my teenage years, trying to entrap some fool I barely knew into a marriage, just because the Tribe told me do it. We’re just lucky we figured out that his two sides were the same person before your demands for me to murder him came to fruition.”_

_Cologne’s steepled fingers parted, one hand gripping the head of her staff tightly. “The Tribe has survived so long because we’ve listened to what works. I liked following my grandmother’s teachings about as much as you do, and as much as she enjoyed it from her grandmother before her, and her grandmother before her. But I grew up. I put my own selfishness aside for the Tribe, and the Tribe stands because of it. You are the first, and only, in your family’s line to disgrace us so.”_

_“Great-Grandmother, have you already forgotten that Ranma slew Saffron? The Phoenix King himself? Or has your own mindless loyalty blinded you to his abilities? If someone is able to kill a demigod, I think they outrank you in terms of say-so about their life.”_

_“Enough.” Cologne hopped up from the booth, balancing atop her staff. “We are leaving. Mousse and I are returning to China tonight. You will find Ranma, and bring him to us. I don’t care how you do it or how long it takes. You will not be allowed to rejoin the Tribe without him. Go pack your bags.”_

_Cologne began to pogo-hop her staff toward the stairs, when:_

_“No.”_

_Cologne stopped. She slowly turned to face her great-granddaughter, who still stood there with her hands in her pockets._

_Her voice as soft as thunder: “What did you say?”_

_Shampoo glared evenly back at her. “I said no.”_

_“What is the meaning of this?”_

_“It means no.”_

_Shampoo’s fists were clenched in the pockets of her jacket._

_“Great-grandmother, we had our chance to get Ranma. We blew it. My only regret is that it took me so long to realize what a fool I was for trying to force him to bend to your will. You and Mousse may return to China. I am going nowhere.”_

_“You are my great-granddaughter, and you will-“_

_“No. I won’t. And there’s nothing you can do that will make me.”_

_Cologne’s grip tightened around her staff._

_Shampoo, lacking her usual chui, settled for linking her fingers through the emergency pair of brass knuckles in her jacket pocket._

_The two Amazons stared each other down in the dark restaurant._

_Cologne spoke first._

_“Then on your own head be it, Shampoo.”_

_In the span of time it took for Shampoo to blink, Cologne had crossed the several feet between the two of them._

_Before Shampoo could react, even dodge or raise her arms to defend, the heavy, blunt top of Cologne’s staff thrust into her midsection, impacting her solar plexus. With a gasp for air as her diaphragm spasmed, Shampoo staggered backward, clutching her stomach, which was suddenly searing with agony. She fell onto her bottom, pushing herself backward along the floor, away from Cologne._

_With practiced ease, Cologne flipped her staff around to clutch the top end, maintaining eye contact with Shampoo._

_There was a sudden, new, sharp pain just below Shampoo’s ribcage as the slender end of Cologne’s staff prodded the Xiphoid Process, a very specific, slender nub of bone that happened to be shaped like a cat’s tongue._

_Shampoo’s eyes widened, an icy-cold feeling of horror plopping suddenly into her stomach as she realized just what pressure point had just been activated. “You didn’t.”_

_Cologne only glared as she seemed to produce a thermos from nowhere._

_Shampoo could only sit, frozen, as Cologne flicked the large plastic cap off with a single finger. It clattered deafeningly on the floor behind Shampoo._

_Adrenaline suddenly began screaming very loudly in Shampoo’s veins. She roughly turned, desperately scrambling to her feet-_

_only to be yanked backward and downward by the cold splash of water down her back._

_The small lilac cat, fur drenched, scrabbled blindly in the pile of empty clothes on the floor, now panicking fully._

**_this isn’t happening this isn’t happening this isn’t happening this isn’t happening_ **

_Shampoo suddenly went limp as a wrinkled, yet impossibly strong hand seized her by the scruff of her neck, lifting her bodily as if she weighed nothing. She meowed, soft and fearful, as her limbs dangled beneath her, dripping water onto the floor from her fur._

_The next thing she knew, she was roughly shoved into a small, plastic box, a metal grate slammed shut behind her. Shampoo’s blood ran cold once again as she realized what she was in:_

_A cat carrier._

_With no hint of mercy or humor, Cologne picked up the cat carrier by the handle. Shampoo was overcome by vertigo as the entire world moved outside of the plastic prison, falling roughly against one wall._

_Suddenly, there was a_ _metallic CLINK, followed by the soft rattle of a chain pulling taut._

_Cologne stopped calmly, staring at the sickle blade hooked over her shoulder, not yet penetrating flesh, but very ready to do so._

_Several feet behind her, on the other end of the sickle’s chain, Mousse’s voice spoke out. “Elder Cologne. Put Shampoo down. This instant.”_

_At Mousse’s voice, Shampoo began to scratch at the side of the cat carrier, meowing loudly for her oldest, closest friend._

_Cologne sighed, more irritated than anything. “You forget your place, young man.”_

_Deep inside his robe’s sleeve, Mousse flexed his grasp, pulling the chain just a hair tighter. Unseen behind his thick glasses, his eyes were ablaze with anger. “I said, put her down.”_

_“She was about to betray us, Mousse. Betray the Tribe. She’s been consorting with the Tendo girl.”_

_“Fascinating. Don’t care. Put her down.”_

_“You’ve been gibbering over her for years. You’d let her go so easily?”_

_Mousse gritted his teeth. “Before I ever loved her, she was my best friend. If she really wants to go, then if she chooses to without the Tribe’s command, then so be it. But right now, my priority is getting her out of that cage. So: put her down, and get out before I slash you to ribbons.”_ _Mousse tightened his grip on the chain. “Take me back to China if you have to, but leave her alone.”_

_Cologne sneered. “What use would the Tribe have for a weak, traitorous waste of skin and feathers like you?”_

_Quick as a wink, Cologne spun around, flinging the cat carrier in Mousse’s direction._

_Shampoo yowled in surprise and alarm as she sailed through the air in the tight, plastic box._

_Mousse’s eyes widened behind his glasses, instinctively releasing the chain, spreading his arms wide to catch the airborne carrier._

_Faster than the eye could track, Cologne sped under the flying carrier, hopping into the air between it and Mousse, swinging her staff wide._

_With a sickening CRACK, the heavy end of her staff impacted Mousse’s face._

_The cat carrier sailed over Mousse as he fell backward, slamming hard against the wall before clattering to the ground on its side. Shampoo howled in pain as she was knocked around._

_Mousse’s broken glasses fell to the floor. He fumbled blindly for them, cursing his poor vision, his brain a haze of hurt. Something wet was trickling down his face, and the world smelled sickeningly of copper._

_With silent judgement, Cologne jabbed the dazed Mousse in the shoulder, toppling him onto his back._

_In the cat carrier, Shampoo regathered her senses just in time to see Cologne quickly jab her staff into the same pressure point, just below Mousse’s ribcage. She screamed, a loud, long meow of denial._

**_Don’t hurt him! Please! I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt my friend!!!_ **

_Mousse hardly registered the poke in his midsection before the ever-so-gentle caress of a quart of cold water snapped him out of his daze._

_The white duck flapped his drenched wings against the floor, honking incoherently. The whole world was a blur, vague moving shapes among other stationary shapes. Somewhere nearby, a cat was meowing frantically._

_An iron grip seized Mousse around the neck, lifting him even as he thrashed and honked._

_Cologne left the cat carrier where it had fallen, crossing quickly through the kitchen. She opened the back door and tossed the half-blind duck into the alleyway behind the Cat Café, slamming the door shut behind her._

_She calmly reentered the restaurant space, ignoring the meowed pleas of her granddaughter. She stepped over Mousse and Shampoo’s discarded clothes, before pausing. She reached down, picking up the purple leather jacket Shampoo had been wearing._

_“What a horrid thing. You can’t even dress yourself without making a fool of the Tribe.”_

_Cologne turned to the stairs and whistled loudly. After only a few seconds- Shampoo’s eyes widened- a platoon of six Amazons, two male, two female, two otherwise, descended the stairs. All of them were Amazons that Shampoo recognized from the Village, though she hadn’t seen in years._

_Cologne regarded them dryly. “We’re done here. Start packing everything up. I want us gone by morning.”_

_Shampoo scratched desperately at the bars, howling and meowing, her small slitted eyes trickling tears._

_The cat carrier was lifted again, Shampoo tumbling once again as it was turned right-side-up. None of the other Amazons spared her so much as a glance._

_The back door was pushed open once again, Cologne stepping outside into the alley. Mousse was fumbling blindly, walking in circles in a staggering waddle. Shampoo meowed loudly in his direction. He turned his head, honking loudly, before spreading his wings and promptly charging into a wall._

_Shampoo kept clawing and meowing, even as Cologne turned the corner out of the alley and Mousse vanished from sight, even as his desperate honks faded away as the distance grew over streets and blocks, even as Cologne finally, unceremoniously tossed the cat carrier on the front doorstep of the closed Nerima Animal Shelter, and walked away without a word._

_There, on the doorstep, Shampoo’s mournful yowls and cries echoed, on and on, throughout the night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks to the Ranma 1/2 Fandom Discord group for their help in the logistics of how the Full-Body Cat Tongue works.


	6. Follow That Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter contains the depiction of a panic attack with themes of self-loathing. Please use your own best judgement before reading.

**_August_ **

****

“How’s that?”

“Is good.”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

Akane nodded. “Okay. Breathe in.”

Lying on the floor, on her stomach, her arms splayed to her sides, Shampoo inhaled deeply.

“And breathe out.”

As Shampoo exhaled, Akane, straddling her back, placed her palms on each side of Shampoo’s spine and pushed hard. Shampoo exhaled roughly as Akane moved her hands up Shampoo’s spine, pushing inward with each vertebra. The sound of several loud sequential _POP_ s could be heard as Shampoo’s vertebrae realigned.

Shampoo deflated slowly, moaning with happiness. “Ohhh… that’s so much better. You’re an angel, Pikachu.”

Akane rolled her eyes with a smirk. “You hush. How’s your skin feeling?”

Shampoo nodded as she slowly pushed herself upward to a seated position. “Good. Don’t feel like I’m on fire no more.”

“That’s good. Take a minute and rotate your shoulder like we did earlier.”

“Mhmm.” Shampoo curled one arm, beginning to gently rotate it around and around in her socket. She was clad in Akane’s oversized sleep shirt, Akane herself in some comfy clothes. It had been less than two hours since Shampoo had shifted to her human form for the first time in four months, the majority of that time having been spent slowly unworking the kinks in Shampoo’s muscles caused by the backlash of breaking the Cat Tongue.

“Thank you so much, ‘Kane. If not for you, I’d still be in that cage.”

Akane smiled softly. “I mean, what was I supposed to do, leave you there?”

“Wouldn’t blame you.” Shampoo sighed. “After I disappear on you, right after I ask you out. You must’ve hated me.”

Akane paused, looking down at her feet as she sat cross-legged. “No… I mean, I was mad at you, cause I thought…”

Shampoo nodded grimly. “Yeah.”

“But I didn’t hate you. Mostly I just felt… betrayed, I guess? Betrayed and sad.”

“And angry?”

A bitter chuckle from Akane. “And angry. How could you have possibly guessed.”

Shampoo reached over, squeezing Akane’s shoulder. “You a very angry person.”

“Geez, rub it in, whydontcha.”

Shampoo shook her head. “Is nothing wrong with that. Angry good sometimes, yes?”

Akane shook her head, absolutely lost. “Like _when?”_

“Well… angry helped you get rid of the Idiot Kuno Boy, didn’t it?”

“I mean, yeah, but…”

“And the Hentai Horde I hear so much about?”

“Yeah, them too, but…”

“And angry helped you fight me off way back when, didn’t it?”

Akane gave her a sad smile. “Come on, Shampoo, don’t patronize me.”

“I not!” Shampoo looked genuinely affronted at the suggestion. “Angry _good_! Angry get shit done!” Her gaze softened, and she placed one hand on Akane’s leg. “You just… gotta remember to use it right. Don’t go knockin’ folk out what don’t deserve it.”

Akane looked down at Shampoo’s hand on her thigh. After a pause, she brought her own hand to meet Shampoo’s, interlacing their fingers. Shampoo could feel Akane’s rough callouses over the back of her hand.

Akane sighed, tracing her thumb over Shampoo’s knuckles. “I dunno… every time I let it out, people get hurt, and every time I bottle it up, people get hurt worse. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. Plus now I’m summoning rage-powered storms, _I guess._ ”

Akane leaned against Shampoo, staring at the dim light from the kitchen, the only light on in the apartment. “I spent so long being so angry at everything, I don’t know what I’m supposed to be without it.”

Shampoo shrugged. “Then don’t be without it. Keep dog on a leash, don’t just throw him out.”

Akane hummed noncommittally as she considered Shampoo’s words. “We’ve got to get out of here. Out of this stupid, rotten town, before it eats us.”

Shampoo nodded gently on Akane’s shoulder. “Yes. But not without Mousse. We find Mousse first.”

Akane nodded firmly. “Absolutely. I just hope that we can.”

“We have to. I’m not leaving him.”

Akane sighed deeply, feeling the comforting weight of Shampoo’s head on her shoulder.

“Shampoo… can I hug you? Just for a minute?”

A soft chuckle from the Amazon. “Yes, please, actually. Was embarrassed to ask, but I’ve missed having normal skin, would love hug.”

Akane’s hands slowly travelled up and around Shampoo’s midsection, clutching her close. Shampoo likewise trailed both arms around Akane.

The two held each other close, clutching tightly.

Akane could feel Shampoo’s hands, tightly wrapped into Akane’s shirt, squeezing the fabric tightly as if Akane might fade away if she let go.

Shampoo began to shake, gently, in Akane’s grasp. Soft, barely muted sniffles could be heard, a gentle warm dampness seeping into the shoulder of Akane’s shirt.

“Shampoo? Are you okay?”

Shampoo chuckled wetly. “Sorry, sorry, I… I just so, so happy. So happy to not be stuck anymore.” She hugged Akane even tighter. “I not alone anymore.”

Akane smiled, squeezing Shampoo back. “No. We aren’t.”

There was a long pause as the two held each other.

Then:

“Shampoo, I’m loving this hug, but you smell really bad.”

Shampoo laughed, loudly and shrilly, as she shoved the grinning Akane backward. “Shut up, dummy! Haven’t had a bath in four months!”

~/~/~

Later, in the wee hours of the morning, Akane stared once again at the increasingly-familiar ceiling above her bedroll, pulled from a restless sleep.

Head having migrated to rest on Akane’s stomach as they slept, Shampoo breathed softly, in and out. Akane allowed herself a small smile at the sound. Shampoo snored oddly, humming gently as she breathed out. Almost like a purr.

It had been a process, getting Shampoo brave enough to try for a shower. Even though they had both objectively known that the Cat Tongue was cured… it was still scary, warming up to the idea.

_Pun not intended,_ Akane thought to herself.

Still, Shampoo had finally decided to give it a try. Akane had sat outside the shower, on the toilet lid, offering words of encouragement.

Now, Shampoo smelling of Akane’s favorite green apple body wash, the two were sharing Akane’s bedroll.

Akane was privately amazed at how well she was taking this.

Those old voices, the ones that once welled up inside her to yell words like… like _you-know-what,_ had fallen silent.

This, even though she was currently sharing sheets with a girl.

A girl she had, barely three years ago, gotten in a fight with at a minimum of once a week.

Funny, that.

Akane realized that the first sunbeam of the morning had made itself known on the wall, shining through the window.

_I could go get breakfast._

She mentally considered her funds. She still had a decent amount in her account, but she still hadn’t found a job. She really needed to start saving money, who knew how long they would be here before they found Mousse.

Oh, what the hell. Shampoo just got her human form back, they deserved at least a small celebration.

~/~/~

For just a second, as Shampoo awoke, she was certain that it had all been a dream, and that she was still a cat, stuck in a kennel at a low-grade animal shelter.

Then, she felt the sheets around her skin, and her heart soared. Shampoo sighed dreamily, stretching luxuriously. The apartment was comfortably warm.

She sat up in the bedroll, yawning as the sheets and blanket slid down around her. Bleary-eyed, she glanced around.

“’Kane? Kitchen Destroyer, where’d you go?”

As if on cue, the kitchen door opened, Akane stepping in with a large paper bag from WcDonalds and a tray with what appeared two cups of coffee in tow. Her face brightened as she hip-checked the door shut. “Morning, Shampoo! I bought breakfast!”

Shampoo smiled back. “Aw, thank you, ‘Kane! You’re sweet.”

As Akane busied herself unpacking their fast food breakfast feast onto the counter, Shampoo stood up from the bedroll, glancing down at herself with some amusement. She had gone to bed still wearing the oversized shirt from the previous night, over a pair of panties.

She chuckled. “Y’know, ‘Kane, if someone see us right now, could get wrong impression.”

Akane’s face flushed as she realized what the beautiful girl wearing her shirt and a pair of panties climbing out of her bed meant. Akane gave an unsubtle cough, glancing away.

As Shampoo joined her at the counter, Akane gave her a small, side-glance.

Shampoo met her eyes, smiling impishly.

Akane felt the tips of her ears burning. “Sh…Shampoo?”

“ _Yesssssss,_ ‘Kane?”

That flock of butterflies, long missing, had suddenly reappeared in Akane’s tummy.

She swallowed, loudly. “Uh… I…”

Shampoo leaned against the counter, smiling at Akane with a cocked eyebrow and perhaps just a hint of self-satisfied smugness, watching the martial artist grow more and more flustered. She allowed the borrowed shirt to hike up, just a little, on her ample hips.

“It okay, take your time.”

Akane’s face was beet-red at this point, as she tried desperately not to let her eyes dart any further downward. “I-I-I-I-I-HANG ON PLEASE!”

Akane suddenly spun, facing the kitchen sink. She yanked the cold handle forward, shoving her head under the spigot, allowing the cold stream to flow over her head. Shampoo bent over cackling as Akane burbled.

“HBLBLBLBBLBLLBLBLR-“ Just as suddenly as she had done it, Akane pulled her head out from under the water flow, turning the sink back off. Her hair soaked, dripping down her shoulders and onto the floor, she turned to face Shampoo once more, the very picture of stoicism. “Apologies.”

Shampoo howled with laughter, clutching Akane’s shoulder’s for support. Akane couldn’t keep up the steadfast façade after the display she had just pulled, her mouth curling into a smile, before the laughter began to slip out.

The two held each other, laughing in the undersized kitchen, before they finally sank to the floor, sitting against the cabinets as their laughter slowly tapered off into giggles.

Shampoo clutched her side, breathing deeply between chuckles. “Oh… Kitchen Destroyer, I needed that. Been too long since I laughed.”

Akane nodded, still smiling. “Oh gosh… same, actually?”

With a small, fond smile, Shampoo gave Akane a long look.

As Akane chuckled, she froze as she felt Shampoo’s hand gently cup her cheek.

Her heart began to pound again as she opened her eyes.

Shampoo, eyes gently lidded, gave her a soft smile.

“May I?” Shampoo asked.

The meaning of the question was obvious.

Akane felt her hands begin to shake, feel the redness begin to creep back into her cheeks.

“Y-y-y-y-y-“ Akane down on her lower lip, her sudden attack of bashfulness not allowing her the privilege of answering verbally. Instead, she clenched her eyes shut and nodded rapidly, not giving herself the chance to chicken out.

Shampoo felt a great relief fall across her being, the weight of fear falling from her.

She leaned forward, caressing Akane’s cheekbone with her thumb, slowly leaning further and further forward.

Akane could feel her heart pounding, harder and harder, sweat prickle across her forehead, her breathing quickening. Was the apartment always this hot? Why did she itch so much?

What was happening?

_Why_ was this happening?

She wasn’t even angry, but the same old sensations were still bursting into flame inside her.

Fear. Guilt. Shame. Adrenaline.

_Oh look, all the usual stupid guilt feelings. What a shocker._

It was too much.

Akane suddenly shoved Shampoo backward by the shoulders, the purple-haired Amazon’s hair bells jingling as she fell away from her. Akane spun around, hiding her shame from Shampoo.

“I-I-I-I can’t do this!” Akane felt her eyes grow hot and wet as she clenched her own hair painfully with two tight hands, at _yet another thing she had screwed up._ “I-I’m sorry, Shampoo, I’m so sorry, it’s not you, I-I j-j-j-j-just-“

Akane flinched as she felt two strong hands wrap around her arms from behind. “No, it’s okay! ‘Kane, it’s okay! Don’t be sorry!”

Akane blinked uncomprehendingly, panted wildly, as Shampoo’s strong hands squeezed her arms. “Wh-wh-wh-“

Shampoo’s arms slowly, gently reached around Akane’s torso, pulling her close. Akane slumped into her hug, crying softly, not understanding.

Shampoo carefully slid both legs around Akane's sitting form, gently drawing her into her lap.

"Shh. It's okay. It's okay."

This didn't make any sense.

It had been just the same as Akane had always done, the promise of intimacy flattened by sudden hostility and violence. Why couldn't Shampoo see that?

"Sh-Shampoo, stop, don't, you shouldn't, sh-shouldn't be around me-"

"Shhhh." Shampoo began to ever-so-gently rock the two of them back and forth.

"Breathe deep. You okay. We okay."

The two sat there, on the rough old linoleum of the too-small kitchen, Akane sniffling and clenching her hands together, Shampoo just holding her, whispering softly.

Time passed. The morning sunbeam slid up the wall. The breakfast on the counter grew lukewarm, then cold.

Akane's hands migrated upward, loosely hanging from Shampoo's wrists.

"I say this with love, 'Kane... but you are very wound-up person." Shampoo murmured behind her. Akane could feel Shampoo's breath under her short hair, against the back of her neck.

Ruddy-faced, Akane nodded with a wet hiccup. "I..." she sniffed. "I just... I'm so stressed, Shampoo. I feel so stressed, every day, all the time."

Shampoo nodded silently, letting Akane vent her frustrations.

"I don't know how to turn it off. I hate being like this. I don't _want_ to be like this."

"Have you ever tried therapy?"

Akane laughed bitterly at that. "I did, actually. Tried it twice. The first one, I got mad at him and stormed out halfway through the third session. Never spoke to him again."

"What about the other one?"

"Turned out to be a Jusenkyo-Cursed martial artist in disguise who was using me to get to Ranma to take revenge for Genma stealing his auntie's magic watch or something. As one does."

Shampoo nodded sagely. "An age-old problem."

Akane chuckled. Already feeling a little better, she leaned back against Shampoo, who moved her arms from Akane's shoulders to around her waist, hugging her close.

Akane sighed wistfully as she stared at the sad, drab kitchen cabinets. "I used to meditate, y'know."

"Yes?" Shampoo queried.

Akane nodded. "Yeah. Years ago. Its been since, I think, high school." She sighed. "We'd all wake up early and start off the day doing it together. Me, Kasumi and Nabiki, and Mom and Dad. Nabs would always grump about it, but she still did it with us."

"Why'd you stop?"

"Mom died."

“Oh.” Shampoo felt her heart break, just a little. "I'm sorry."

Akane shrugged. "It is what it is. After that, Dad was too heartbroken to keep going, so Kasumi had to step up and take charge of the housework. Nabiki buried herself in her mercenary work. I kept it going for maybe another week or so...

She rolled her eyes. "Then, Kuno issued his challenge to date me, then the Hentai Horde got involved, and I was waking up more and more stressed, and then one day I think i realized i hadn't meditated or done any mindfulness in almost a year. So I decided to get my anger under control starting the next day...

"Then Ranma and his dad arrived that night." She finished. "And the rest is history."

"Ah." Shampoo murmured, before shrugging gently. "Maybe you should try again?"

"What, now?"

"Why not? You already say you want to get better. Seems like a good start to me. Maybe when we get back tonight?"

Akane paused as she thought it over. It honestly wasn't a terrible idea. Mindfulness had helped her a lot, back in the day.

"I'll think about it."

Shampoo smiled, gently kissing the back of Akane's neck. "Good."

Akane blushed gently at the feeling of Shampoo's soft lips. "F-first, though, we've got a long day ahead of us."

Shampoo nodded firmly. "Right."

Easing herself out of Shampoo's lap, Akane turned to face her.

"Let's go find Mousse."

~/~/~

This, like most things in life, turned out to be easier said than done.

The midday sun bore down on the two of them as Akane glared at the fourth pond so far today.

_I never realized until today how many ponds Nerima has. I don't know how Ranma survived._

Damp, muddy sand mixed with grainy pebbles stuck to the bottoms of Akane's shoes as she squelched her way around the pond, squinting at the water.

An assortment of ducks and geese clustered in the center of the small pond, honking and quacking discordantly.

A decent distance away from the water, Shampoo waved one arm at Akane. "See anything?"

"Nothing yet." Akane called over her shoulder. She stepped forward, closer to the edge of the water.

"Mousse? Are you out there?"

There was a slight increase in the number of quacks at her raised voice, as the assorted waterfowl collectively eased away from her.

"Mousse? Mu Mu? Can you hear me? It's me, Akane!"

More assorted quacks and honks, none of which sounded particularly alarmed or hopeful.

"Mousse? If you're there and can hear me, follow my voice!"

As Akane waved her arms and hollered at ducks for the fourth time that day, Shampoo tucked her hands in her pockets with a downcast huff.

“So… what’s with the weirdo?” A voice behind her asked.

Shampoo turned to see a young man leaning against the fence surrounding the park, sneering at the two of them.

Shampoo levelled a glare at the creep, not even worth her fists. “Take a picture, it last longer.”

Before the creep could even open his mouth to deliver a snide retort, there was a sudden drastic shift in the air pressure around them, a sharp and noticeable spike in humidity.

“HEY, CREEP!” Akane’s voice from behind Shampoo.

The creep went pale in the face as he recognized her. “T-T-T-T-T-Tendo?!”

Akane felt the sudden, acidic rush inside her, welcoming it as she glared at the former member of the Hentai Horde. “Don’t think I don’t recognize you, Kunikida, you skinny little mouth-breather!”

Kunikida took a step backward, before tripping over his own feet and falling flat on his back.

In a flash, Akane was standing over him, clutching the lapel of his shirt in a tight fist, murder in her eyes.

Teeth clenched tightly, she leaned down and spoke with a voice as soft as thunder.

_“Get out of here before I peel you open with a can opener and eat your nonexistent brain.”_

Kunikida emitted a low, guttural moan of terror as he scrambled backward, his stretched collar slipping from Akane’s grip as he struggled to his feet, before sprinting away, not daring to look back.

Akane spat onto the street where he had landed, before turning to face Shampoo. “I’m not apologizing for that one. That little turd used to try and knock me on the head with a lacrosse stick so he could get a date with me. He’d turn on the cold water in the gym showers so he could try and grope Ranma. Screw ‘em.”

To Akane’s surprise, Shampoo was smiling widely. “No, see, that what I was talkin’ about! Angry good, if you use it right!”

Akane blinked. This wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting. “R… really? That wasn’t… over-the-top?”

With a smirk, Shampoo nodded in the direction Kunikida had fled in. “You think _he’s_ ever gonna bother you again?”

~/~/~

"Have you seen this duck?"

"Ma'am, this is a Big Bang Burger."

Shampoo glared at the hapless cashier behind the counter, whose business had invaded where the Cat Cafe used to be. "Yes, we know. We still asking."

"We don't serve duck here." The teenage cashier's voice cracked as they answered nervously.

Akane motioned to the picture on her outstretched phone. "This building was the last place Shampoo saw him. Please, just look closely."

Now even more confused, the cashier leaned forward, staring at the picture of a duck wearing glasses, feathers ruffled.

"Ma'am, I don't know how to tell you that most people can't recognize individual ducks."

Akane's mouth tightened into a thin line. "You'd recognize this one. He has glasses."

"And he's armed." Shampoo added.

The cashier blinked. "The duck has arms?"

Akane shook her head. "No, no, he IS armed. Like, with weapons."

"Weapons."

"Yeah! He's got, like, chains and axes and sickles hidden in his feathers."

"He's very talented." Shampoo nodded.

“He’s a trained attack duck.” Akane quickly added, before wincing as Shampoo elbowed her side roughly.

The cashier glanced around the dining area, looking for any sign of a hidden camera. "Is... is this some kind of joke?"

Akane and Shampoo shared a confused look. "No?" Akane asked. "Why? It's a simple question."

"He responds to Mousse, if that help." Shampoo offered.

Akane added "Or Mu Mu, but that's mostly just me."

A long, blank stare from the cashier before they spoke again. "And... why are you looking for this duck?"

Shampoo gave Akane a worried glance. "Uhhh... he-"

"He's my emotional support service duck!" Akane suddenly blurted out.

There was silence between the three of them. Akane winced, immediately regretting the lie.

Shampoo ever-so-slowly turned her head to stare long and hard at Akane. " _What_???" she silently mouthed.

The cashier continued to stare. "Your... emotional support... _duck_."

"Y... yeah." Akane answered lamely. "He's, uh... specially trained. If... if I have a panic attack, he uh, he... quacks." She raised a hand, miming a duck’s beak as she made several subdued quacking noises. "Like... wak, wakwakwakwakwak..."

Shampoo placed a hand on Akane's shoulder. "Stop. Please, just stop."

Akane slowly lowered her hand, growing red in the face. "It, uh, it's... soothing?"

"Please leave."

~/~/~

Shampoo stomped out of the restaurant that used to be her home with her nose in the air. “Hmph. Sorriest excuse for customer service I’ve ever seen.”

She glanced to the left, giving another sad look at the red bicycle, still parked where she’d left it four months ago, back tire horribly bent. It was the only physical evidence remaining that she and Mousse had lived here for so long.

Akane winced, following Shampoo’s gaze to the bent bike wheel. “Yeah, sorry. I was… yeah.”

Shampoo sighed, running a hand along the bike’s seat, now coated with a layer of dust. “It’s okay. It had a good run.”

“It was all that was left when I got here. That, and your purple leather jacket.” Akane pointed a single finger down the alley that led behind the former Cat Café. “I found that in a trash can back there.”

Shampoo slumped. “Awww! I _liked_ that jacket!”

“I guess Cologne threw it away on the way out.”

Shampoo gave Akane a sad look. “You didn’t happen to keep it, did you?”

“No, sorry. You wouldn’t have wanted it, anyway. It was caked in trash can gick.”

Shampoo gave an agreeing sigh. “Some stuff just don’t wash out.” She gave another look down the alley that led around the building. “Actually… give me a second?”

Akane blinked, then nodded as she realized. “Yeah, of course. Take as long as you need.”

Shampoo nodded her thanks, before slowly walking down the alley.

To her left, she ran one hand along the rough brickwork she had passed who knew how many times.

No matter how bad or chaotic Nerima may be, the Cat Café had been home for the better part of a decade. And now it was gone.

Shampoo rounded the corner into the alley behind the Big Bang Burger, a tiny part of her half-expecting to see Mousse, blind and quacking, right where she’d left him four months ago.

The alley was empty. Save for a few trash cans and a moped, which probably belonged to one of the Big Bang Burger employees.

Shampoo gave a long, sad sigh at what had slipped away from her, before turning and heading back toward the front of the building.

Akane was staring at something down the street as Shampoo approached. Shampoo gave a smile. “Sorry ‘bout that. Let’s get back to it, yes?”

“Shampoo, tell me not to go down this road.”

Akane’s voice was so quiet, and her hands gently wrung in front of her.

Shampoo glanced down the street. “Why, what-“

She silently cursed to herself as she remembered that the Cat Café was at the end of the street Akane used to live on.

Far down the street, not quite out of sight, Shampoo could see the corner of stone wall that surrounded the property that once held the Tendo home.

Akane stared at it. “Tell me not to go down there, Shampoo. If I go down there and… I don’t know, they’re camping on the lawn in tents or something… I may not leave them again.”

In the skies above them, the clouds seemed just a little bit darker. Not quite rainy, but definitely greyer.

Shampoo gently reached out, tugging on Akane’s elbow in the opposite direction. “Come on… let’s go back to apartment. It been a long day, we need a break.”

Akane nodded wordlessly, allowing herself to be pulled by Shampoo. With one last look, she turned away from her old street, finding something interesting on the pavement to look at.

As they walked, Shampoo heard a few whispered words.

“Thank you, Shampers.”

Shampoo smiled, as she led Akane back to the apartment they called home.

~/~/~

**_Back at the Apartment_ **

**_That Evening_ **

****

Shampoo’s thumb slid around on the screen of Akane’s phone, which had been silenced. She lounged on the bedroll, quietly curling a sheet around one foot as she snuck a glance across from her.

Seated on her pillow, legs crossed beneath her, Akane sat with her eyes closed. Her two hands were cupped before her, her middle fingers touching at their tips. She breathed slowly, in and out.

An interesting cycle took place as Shampoo watched. As Akane tried to meditate for the first time since high school, her brow would slowly furrow and clench over the course of a few minutes as the irritation set in. Suddenly, she would realize she was getting aggravated, and unclench her brow. It would remain limp for a few minutes, before slowly beginning to crease again.

Shampoo stayed quiet, even as familiar storm clouds slowly, slowly gathered outside. She trusted Akane. If Akane was trying to manage her temper, then that was progress. Shampoo knew there was very little chance of the kind of typhoon that had destroyed the Tendo Home.

Without opening her eyes, Akane mumbled. “I can feel you staring at me.”

Shampoo winced. “Sorry.”

Akane gave a long, hopeless sigh. “It’s fine.” She thunked her head on the wall behind her as she let her hands fall limp out of the mindfulness pose. “I’m never gonna crack this, am I?”

“Don’t say that. Just give time. I know you get it.”

Akane grumbled to herself as she glared out the window at the darkened evening sky, orange sunset completely obscured by bloated grey clouds.

“That’s just me all over, isn’t it? Cover up something beautiful with Me, Me, Me.” She knew that her own irritation was making the clouds worse, and that just made her irritation worse, and around and around it went.

Her hands clenched the fabric of her pajama pants tightly as she glared outside. “D’you think it would make the weather worse if I yell profanities out the window into the street?”

Shampoo paused, thinking. “Honestly, might make it better? I think the whole point is you bottling it up until it spills out, so maybe if you let pressure off on your own…?”

Akane tilted her head back, glaring at the ceiling.

“Screw it. It’ll help me feel better, if nothing else.”

Akane clambered to her feet, opening the window. A sprinkle of raindrops instantly pattered against her face, blown by a strong, hot wind that ruffled her hair and instantly made her itch with humidity.

Shampoo watched Akane with sympathetic eyes, trying to ignore the low, whispering sound like static that seemed to accompany these storms.

Then, Shampoo paused.

She cocked her head to the side, listening closely.

There was a new sound, under the static.

A distant, nasally hum that seemed to be growing louder and louder.

Akane took a deep breath in, the window frame creaking as she squeezed it in her hands.

She felt the curse bubbling up on the edge of her tongue, and violently pushed the air from her lungs to let it shoot out.

“ _MOTHER FU-“_

Akane was suddenly cut off by the abrupt impact of a screaming mass of feathers impacting into her face.

She stumbled backward, feeling white wings batting at her face as she swatted back, sputtering feathers in every direction at the honking mass. A wide-eyed Shampoo leapt to her feet to help pull the small attacker off of her.

As Shampoo seized the flapping, quacking beast, they both froze.

In unison:

“ _Mousse?!”_

Instantly, the half-blind duck froze in Shampoo’s grasp.

A sickle on a long chain fell out from behind its wing, trailing to the ground with a loud _clunk_.

The duck squinted at them intently through beaded eyes.

“Hwak?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout Out to Dodger the Actual Emotional Support Duck my spouse met, who inspired that one gag.


	7. I of the Storm

**_August_ **

" _MOUSSE_!" Shampoo and Akane shrieked in unison.

Mousse gave a strained honk as Shampoo and Akane leapt upon the duck, hugging him tightly between the two of them.

Mousse gave a long, relieved sigh as he leaned into the hug, his long journey over. He slowly relaxed, his tired wings dangling below him.

Akane slowly withdrew her arms with one last squeeze, sitting backward to give Shampoo some space with a smile.

Shampoo sat back on her butt, sobbing a long string of Mandarin, joyful tears leaking from her eyes as she held her oldest friend tightly.

"Mousse... you're alive... you're alive..."

Mousse quacked happily as Shampoo hugged him, before suddenly leaning back. He flailed blindly with his wings, awkwardly patting Shampoo on the shoulders and face with a fluffy touch. "Hwak?"

Shampoo nodded with wet eyes, even as she spat a few feathers from the corner of her mouth. "Yeah. I human again. Hot water. Hurt real bad, but worked." She nodded in Akane's direction. "'Kane found me. Saved me."

Akane nodded, reaching one hand out to trail down the feathers of Mousse's back. "And you're safe now too, Mu Mu."

"Hwak." With a nod, Mousse gently flapped his wings, easing himself out of Shampoo's grasp and to the ground. He raised one wing, as if motioning to wait a moment. "Hwak. Wak-hwak, wak wak."

Akane and Shampoo shared a confused look as Mousse flapped his wings. With a loud CLUNK, another sickle on a chain trailed out, rattling into a pile on the ground. A pair of axes fell out from below one wing, followed by a set of throwing knives, a smoke bomb, a few caltrops...

Mousse gave a sheepish "Hwak" as his deep-pocketed arsenal continued to fall out. His phone, long dead, a plastic bag filled with yen labeled "EMERGENCY CASH STASH", a few granola bars, a harpoon gun, a little red bottle with a skull and crossbones on it.

Shampoo picked up and contemplatively squeezed a dropped rubber duckie, which mournfully squeaked like it was dying. " _Mazel tov_ , it's a boy."

Akane's eyebrows slowly arched as a loose deck of playing cards fluttered in several directions around a heavy iron mace that thundered to the floor. "Mousse, I get that you're looking for something important, but this apartment only has so much floor space."

Mousse's little duck eyes narrowed in frustration as whatever he was trying to produce from his wings proved elusive.

Suddenly, with one last flap and a "HJONK!", a small plastic pill bottle tumbled out, bouncing off the top of the mace before rolling to a stop on the floor. A single white pill rattled around inside it.

Mousse turned his head in the direction of the sound. "Wak?"

Akane frowned, picking up the pill bottle. She scrutinized the pill through the translucent orange plastic. "The heck? What is this?"

Shampoo gasped, plucking the bottle from Akane's fingers. "I know this pill!"

She turned to look at Mousse. "Mousse, you have a Phoenix Pill?!"

"Hwak!" Mousse nodded rapidly, his long neck curling and uncurling.

The Phoenix Pill. The only other cure for the Full Body Cat Tongue, and completely painless to boot.

Akane bopped him gently on the head. "Then why didn't you take it earlier, ya dingus?!"

Shampoo leapt to her feet with a half-manic grin that almost dared to hope. "Never mind that! Get this duck some hot water!"

With a quick nod, Akane hopped to her feet, quickly sliding into the bathroom, turning the shower on warm water. Shampoo scooped Mousse up in the crook of one arm, plastic pill bottle held between two fingers.

As Akane tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the water to heat up, Shampoo popped the pill bottle open, carefully fishing out the Phoenix Pill. She gently tapped Mousse on the beak. “Here’s the pill, Mousse. Say ah.”

Mousse opened his beak wide. “Waaaaaaaaaaaak…”

Shampoo slid the pill into his mouth. Mousse rapidly crunched the pill into powder in his beak, swallowing it like bird seed.

Akane flashed a thumbs-up from beside the bathtub, the shower water already beginning to steam. “Ready!”

Mousse held his wings wide as Shampoo gently guided him onto the edge of the tub, the shower stream less than a foot away from him. His webbed feet papped loudly on the plastic edge, as he tested the warmth coming off the water.

The lava-like heat that accompanied water that was typically felt by victims of the Full Body Cat Tongue was no longer there.

With an overjoyed quack, Mousse flapped forward, into the warm water.

A mass of limbs and long black hair slammed into the wall on the other side of the shower, Akane and Shampoo suddenly having a direct view of Mousse’s naked butt.

“Ow.” Mousse’s voice was muffled against the tile wall, the shower hissing behind him.

Akane quickly turned before the old, acidic impulses at seeing someone else’s naked form could surge up inside her, not even giving those old demons a chance. She instead found something interesting on the ceiling to look at.

Shampoo sighed. “Same old Mousse.”

Mousse slowly peeled himself off of the wall. He suddenly froze, carefully feeling along his face with venturing, cautious fingers, trailing down his chest. He stopped and stared down at his hands, squinting his eyes tightly, slowly flexing his fingers.

“I… I’m back.”

He spun around to face the two, grinning widely. “I’M HUMAN AGAIN!”

Akane coughed loudly. Shampoo simply smirked.

Mousse suddenly realized that he was butt naked in front of two of his best friends.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..."

Mousse squinted down at himself as he haphazardly wrapped the towel around his midsection. He carefully rolled the top inward, securing it around himself. Satisfied, Mousse stumbled out of the tub and flung his arms wide, throwing himself around Akane. "Oh, Shampoo! I've missed you so much!"

Shampoo snickered at her side as Akane rolled her eyes with a good-natured smirk, patting Mousse lightly on the back, his wet hair soaking her shirt. "Missed you too, Mu Mu."

~/~/~

"After Cologne left me in that alley and took you away, I fumbled my way out of there as quick as a I could. I didn't want to risk any further ideas from her."

Mousse sat cross-legged before them, still wrapped in the towel, for want of any clothes that fit him. The three of them sat, each on a different edge of the bedroll.

Mousse placed his hands on the sheets in front of him, fumbling his fingers. Immediately, Akane and Shampoo reached out, each clutching one hand. He smiled, squeezing back as he continued.

“I snagged one of the Phoenix Pills when the Tribe sent us a batch, back when Ranma was learning the Amaguriken. I saved it for an emergency. Just in case, y’know?"

Shampoo smiled, her eyes still wet with relief, as she squeezed her best friend’s hand. “But why no take it until now?”

Mousse smiled awkwardly, staring into the space between the two of them. “I was saving it for you.”

Shampoo blinked rapidly, then gave a loud sniffle as she wrapped Mousse in a hug, teary-eyed once again. She half-heartedly slapped him on the shoulder with one hand. “Stupid… stupid duck-boy…”

Unable to help herself, Akane slid closer, wrapping her arms around the two of them once again. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Mousse.”

Mousse chuckled, hugging the two of them back. “But yeah, it was tough. Four months of eating what edible trash I could find, and the occasional bird seed or bread crumbs from little old ladies. Plus other… embarrassing moments.”

“Like what?” Akane asked, cocking an eyebrow.

~/~/~

**_Two Months Earlier…_ **

****

_“Brother dear, are you quite sure this is how roast duck is prepared?” Kodachi Kuno crossed her arms, staring quizzically._

_Adjusting the heat for the boiling pot of water on the stove, Tatewaki Kuno maintained an iron grip around the throat of the struggling duck in his other hand. “Of course, my sweet baby sister. I’ve seen the Cook prepare lobster, and it’s done by dropping them right into the boiling water. How different can it be?”_

_Mousse gave a wheezing set of hacks and quacks as he struggled in the rich twit’s hand, the heat from the already boiling-hot water almost unbearable this close._

_Kodachi prodded at the flailing waterfowl. “And are you sure Cookie won’t just come by and cook it himself? Surely the servants must be tired of this silly little strike by now.”_

_“Unfortunately, yes. I called to ask him, and he laughed at me like a hyena before he hung up.”_

_“How rude.”_

_“Quite. But enough talk.” Kuno reached into the nearby knife block, spent several seconds rummaging through each one as he searched for the tool he was looking for, and finally withdrew a sharp cleaver. Though he couldn’t see a thing, Mousse’s eyes widened as he heard the distinct sound of sharpened metal emerging from its sheath._

_The blade caught the light as Kuno raised it above his head. “Apologies, noble bird, but know that your death is a worthy sacrifice.”_

_With death only seconds away and no other options, Mousse reached a single webbed foot up under his wing, felt his toes brush against cold metal, and yanked._

_A heavy barbell fell from Mousse’s hidden pockets like a meteor from heaven, making a loud crunch noise as it impacted Kuno’s foot._

_“Forsooth!”_

_Kuno released Mousse and the cleaver from his grasp, the cleaver clattering to the floor as Kuno hopped on one foot. Taking his opportunity, Mousse flapped his wings hard, propelling himself away from the mad swordsman._

_Kodachi watched her dingbat of a brother hop around, clutching his injured foot, as the loose duck vanished from view through the kitchen entryway. The sounds of loud thumps, shattering porcelain, and indignant honks could be heard as Mousse blindly bounced off of every wall and china cabinet between the kitchen and the front door, which was quite a few._

_Kodachi sighed, and headed for her bedroom. Kuno, leaning on the counter for support, stared after her. “Where are you going?!”_

_“To order pizza, or to call the men in white coats to take me away. I’ll decide while I’m dialing.”_

~/~/~

Mousse grimaced at the memory. “Uh… trust me, it’s not worth talking about.”

Akane shrugged, hugging Mousse tightly. “Hey, I’m just glad you’re okay. I… I’ve missed you.” She smiled gently. “You’ve always been a really good friend to me, Mu Mu.”

Mousse chuckled. “You too, Akane.”

Shampoo sat back, smiling. “How did you even find us?”

Mousse gave a loud chuckle. “HA! That’s an adventure and a half. So, about a week ago, I actually managed to get my hands on some non-boiling, but still warm, water. Okay, it was actually hot miso soup, but still. Some couple was picnicking in Nerima Park, and they left a thermos behind. I was gonna use it to try and transform back…

“But then a typhoon blew in out of nowhere. Cold rain, hard winds, the whole shebang. I got blown away, and the thermos got tipped over.”

There was a long pause. Then:

“ _Oh?”_ Akane asked, her voice shrill and strained, aware of the beet-red blush spreading to her ears.

Shampoo slapped her own forehead with one palm, trying very hard not to laugh.

Mousse nodded, pressing on. “Yeah. Almost got blown clear to Shibuya.”

Akane felt her face burning. “Hmm. Ah. Yeah. Uh. Wow. That’s rough, buddy.”

“Yeah. But before it blew over, I sensed a weird Ki in it. That Ki has been popping up constantly since then, coming and going, and the weather changes with it. I figured it must be some kind of deranged martial artist or something.”

Shampoo pressed her hands over her mouth, desperately forcing the giggles back down as Akane looked increasingly embarrassed.

Mousse continued, unaware of what was happening right in front of him. “I kept tracking it all week, thinking maybe I could figure out what they were trying to do. So I… basically flew in circles around Nerima all week, trying to sense something.” He grimaced. “Which, yeah, everything looks the same from above even when I can see, so I was literally flying blind. But today, today I sensed it for like a solid hour, so I zeroed in on it the best I could, and I just… I just went for it.” He grinned sheepishly. “But I found you guys instead. Small world, huh?”

Shampoo couldn’t take it anymore. With a shrill cackle, she fell over, giggling at the absurdity of it all. She kicked her legs as she grasped for Akane’s hand. “’Kane! ‘Kane, he- he- _heeheeheehee!”_

Akane was blushing deep red at this point, as she chuckled sheepishly.

Mousse blinked confusedly. “What? What’d I say?”

~/~/~

That night, in an occurrence that was quickly becoming more and more commonplace, Akane found herself awake and staring at the dark ceiling, listening to the gentle snores of her bedmates.

 _It’s true what they say,_ she thought to herself. _What a difference a day makes._

Three days ago, she was alone in the world.

Two days ago, she’d found Shampoo, locked in cat form and abandoned at an animal shelter.

Yesterday, she’d caused a blackout and gotten Shampoo back in her human form.

And now today, she’d gotten Mousse back and helped get him humanized again as well.

And now here she was, lying in her bedroll, Shampoo and Mousse crammed in on either side of her, breathing softly as they slept.

A small part of Akane’s brain snarked: _And there was only one bed._

Shampoo and Mousse. Shampers and Mu Mu. Her crush, and her best friend. Two of her rocks. The only two people left in her life. Curled up on either side of a thunderbolt in human form.

That’s what she was. Akane knew there was no point in denying it. No amount of meditation would change that.

A question rose to the top of Akane’s mind:

_Is that really so bad?_

Well, was it?

Akane’s temper was a raging bull. That much was obvious to anyone who had spent more than a day with her.

But, if she were to follow that metaphor to an admittedly cloudy conclusion, couldn’t a bull also be tamed?

Akane sighed. The ceiling gave no answer, despite her eyes trying their best to glare holes into the apartment above them.

On her right, Mousse lay with his back to her, but ever so gently resting against her side. The smallest bit of human contact, to let him know he was safe. She gently brushed the tips of her knuckles across his back. He was dressed in a shirt and sweatpants from the thrift store that had been comfortably baggy on Akane, but slightly small on him.

On her left, Shampoo lay with her head on Akane’s shoulder, one arm draped across her. Her hand wrapped its fingers around Akane’s other shoulder, clutching her close.

Akane smiled softly at the comfortable weight. “You awake, Shampoo?” She whispered.

Shampoo mumbled sleepily. “Mmm… no.”

A chuckle from Akane. “That’s okay. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” One hand slid across Shampoo’s hair.

Shampoo smiled. “’Kay. Night, Akane…” She snuggled herself closer, planting a half-asleep kiss on Akane’s collarbone as she drifted off to sleep.

Akane was overcome with a sudden, strong, fierce sense of possessiveness. Right that moment, she knew in her heart of hearts that she would tear the stars from the skies and boil the seas, all to keep these two safe. She wanted nothing more than to grab the both of them and hold them tightly to her.

Shampoo… Shampoo understood. She saw past Akane’s temper, saw her for who she was beneath, and she _understood_. The way that Shampoo had held her, comforted her, this morning while she had a panic attack in their cramped kitchen, was proof enough of that.

And Mousse? Mousse was always a good, good friend to her. True, they had had a rocky start when he first came to Nerima, chasing Shampoo, but they had become fast friends in the months following after. Mousse had even grown up a bit in the past year or so, backing off and letting Shampoo make her own choices. Akane had to admit, she was proud of him for making the effort and switching to an all-Respect-Women-Juice diet.

She would never let anything happen to them, and she knew they would do the same. If nothing else, because they were all in this together now. Abandoned, lost at sea in a storm.

It was warm between them. Not the humid, sticky warmth she was so used to, but… a comfortable, happy warmth.

Akane clutched the two Amazons tightly, holding their sleeping forms close.

“Mine.”

~/~/~

Mousse was awoken by the gurgling of his stomach.

He grudgingly cracked an eye open as he sat up. Even through the blur that his astigmatism rendered the world, he could tell that it was daytime. Late morning, or even midday. How long had he been asleep?

From his right, Akane’s voice: “Mornin’, bedhead.”

Mousse followed the voice, squinting fruitlessly. “Akane?”

Seated atop a pillow, Akane smiled, snapping her thick book shut. “Figured I’d let you sleep in. You’ve had a heck of a past few months, all things considered.”

Mousse chuckled. “That’s the truth. Do we have anything to eat? I could murder a puppy for some actual food.”

“D’you mind convenience store stuff?”

“I’ll take anything as long as there’s no duck in it.”

Akane winced. “Good call. I’ll make you some instant ramen. Beef flavor.” She rose to her feet, padding gently toward the undersized kitchen.

Mousse stretched his arms over his head, sighing contently as his spine crackled. “Where’s Shampoo?”

From the kitchen, Akane answered as she hit the buttons on the microwave. “She went to go get you some glasses.”

Mousse’s brow furrowed. “Where’d she get my prescription?”

“No, no, she said she knew where she could find an old pair. Apparently she hid them from you as a prank once? She’s hoping they’re still there.”

“Huh.” Mousse hummed thoughtfully. “I do remember having a pair vanish on me a few years back, and I never did find them. Where’d she hide them?”

~/~/~

“Ma’am, this is a Big Bang Burger.”

Shampoo growled in slowly mounting frustration as she stood on one set of tiptoes atop the prep counter, one hand plunged armpit-deep into a vent. Inside the vent, her fingernails scrabbled on the metal surface, grasping for purchase and failing.

She withdrew her hand, glaring into the vent. A few feet inside, just barely out of reach, a long-forgotten pair of coke-bottle thick glasses sat, taunting her. Back during the days when the Cat Café occupied this building, she had tossed a pair of Mousse’s glasses down this same vent as a goof. While she was grateful that she had saved this pair in the long run, she was cursing her impeccable aim.

“Ugh. Stupid glasses. Stupid vent. Stupid prank.”

From behind her: “Ma’am, we can’t just let you climb around in here, you need to get down.”

Shampoo grumbled. “Nothing for it.” She turned, glaring down at the hapless employee from her perch atop the counter. “Register Jockey! Can you point me toward your cold water?”

The employee pointed a trembling finger toward the other side of the kitchen. “O-over there. Ma’am, you can’t just-“

Shampoo hopped down, stomping toward a hopefully brief encounter with cold water and her cat-mode.

“Ma’am? Ma’am.”

~/~/~

Akane shrugged as she opened the microwave. “Dunno. Didn’t say.”

Mousse shrugged. “Eh. At least I’m gonna have a pair.”

Akane carefully removed the hot cup of ramen from the microwave, nabbing a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks from the counter. “In the meantime- _ouch, hot, hot-_ you’re on apartment lockdown. We don’t want you getting lost again.”

Mousse struggled to his feet with an affronted huff, glaring in Akane’s direction. “Oh, come on! My vision isn’t _that_ bad!”

“Mu Mu, you’re talking to the window.” Came Akane’s droll voice from behind him.

Mousse held his defiant pose for a few desperate seconds, before sighing in defeat. “Okay, you got me.” He sat back down on the bedroll, reaching as Akane delicately handed him the cup ramen.

The next few minutes were fairly silent, broken only by the sounds of Mousse wolfing down the ramen as Akane occupied herself on her phone.

Mousse moaned in delight. “Oh… I never thought cheap convenience store ramen could taste so good…”

Akane smiled. “Cheap, too. It’ll wreck your squishy, fragile organs in the long run, but you just can’t get that flavor anywhere else.”

Mousse nodded, setting the now-empty cup to the side, chopsticks delicately placed across the flat top of the cup.

“So. Ki, huh?”

Akane sighed, clicking her phone off. “Yeah. I guess.”

A nod from Mousse as he adjusted himself. “I can see it on you.”

Akane’s eyes widened. “Wh- really?!”

“Yeah. I mean, not _see_ it, but also yeah? It’s kind of an… an aura thing. Some can sense it, some can’t.” He leaned closer. “Can I see your hand?”

Akane cautiously extended one hand. Mousse gently took her wrist, holding the back of her hand in his palm. With his other hand, he moved his fingers around and over her fingers, as if running them through a mist that only he could see. “I’m surprised I never saw it before. It’s so strong on you now.”

Akane stared, fascinated, as he examined her hand. “I can’t see anything. What does it look like to you?”

“It’s like…” Mousse paused as he thought to himself. “You ever let your eyes unfocus, just a little, and get just a little bit of blurry double vision? It’s kind of like that, but with colors. If that makes any sense.”

“I… think?” Akane unfocused her eyes briefly, staring at her other hand, trying to get a feel for what Mousse was talking about. “What colors are there?”

Mousse smiled. “A lot of blue, that’s kind of like your personal base color. Very loyal, sensitive. But…” his smile faded. “There’s also a lot of grey, and red, mixed together and flowing through the blue.”

Akane sighed, withdrawing her hand. “Grey and red, huh. I can take a wild guess what those mean.”

Mousse gave a sympathetic look. “It’s okay to feel things, Akane.”

Akane sighed, flopping down on her stomach on the bedroll, in front of Mousse. “Mousse… I get it, okay? Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but it really doesn’t help.”

Mousse carefully laid down next to her on his back, his long hair spilling around him. He folded his hands on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m sure Shampoo has told you this, but it really isn’t healthy to bottle up emotions like you do.”

Akane snorted. “Pretty sure I’ve got the opposite problem, Mousse. My emotions just pour out, like a broken pipe, and just shove themselves everywhere until everything is ruined. Exhibit A… my house.”

Mousse reached over, gently squeezing her arm. “Akane, the anger isn’t the problem. Your problem is how you direct it.”

The sheets rustled as Akane folded her arms under her chin. The tops of her bare feet tapped on the wooden floor as she adjusted herself. “I mean… I get that me getting angry at the Hentai Horde back in the day was probably a good thing. And what Nabiki said and did… it was horrible. _Vile._ I couldn’t take what she said lying down. But… did the house really need to get blown to smithereens by my own anger?”

Mousse shrugged. “Maybe.”

Akane cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him. “How the heck do you figure?”

“Well, it sounds to me like you had a lot more bad memories than good associated with that house. Is that right?”

The automatic denial died on Akane’s tongue as she paused, and thought, _really_ thought.

Memories floated to the surface.

_Of Mom, slowly dying in her parent’s bed._

_Of Dad, swallowed by grief, descending into alcoholism and buying cigarettes again._

_Of Kasumi, bright and passionate Kasumi, becoming quiet and subdued under the weight of duty and housework._

_Of Nabiki, sneering, snide, sarcastic Nabiki, with her cameras and lurid blackmail photos._

_Of the day that she came home and was bluntly informed that she had been promised to Dad’s old friend’s son in marriage._

_Of the constant fights and arguments between her and Ranma, over increasingly petty subjects._

_Of the holes punched in the wall of the dojo by enraged fists, on so many occasions, until the wall was more caulk than wood._

_Of the frustration at her art, the same basic punches and kicks, while all around her a dozen martial artists threw around Ki attacks and ridiculous fighting styles._

_Of the anger, the shame, the guilt, day in and day out, burning inside her, cycling round and round like an ouroboros._

“Wow.” Akane whispered.

Mousse hummed softly, squeezing her arm reassuringly as Akane processed this revelation.

“So… what now?” Akane asked.

“Now? My advice, try and find a happy medium. Tame the storm, so to speak.”

“Hmm.” Akane rolled over and snuggled closer to Mousse, her side against his as they lay next to each other. “Cause… here’s the thing… I like… _protecting_ you two, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Akane gestured with her fingers as she spoke. “When I found Shampoo at that pet shelter… yeah, I was _horrified,_ who wouldn’t be? But… when I rescued her, brought her home… it felt… _good._ Same when we were looking for you, and this creep I used to know started bothering us, or when you found us last night and were finally safe… it felt good. It felt good, knowing I could provide those feelings for you guys.” She glanced at him. “Isn’t that selfish, though? Doing good things just because they feel good?”

“I think that’s why they say that Virtue is its own Reward, Akane. It’s okay to feel good for doing good things. You’re not selfish for wanting to not feel angry all the time.”

Akane allowed a smile to eke across her face, nuzzling her cheek against her friend’s shoulder. “I’ve said this before, but you’re a good friend, Mu Mu.”

Mousse chuckled. “I try.”

He raised one index finger. “So! In the interest of addressing the elephant in the room:”

Mousse turned his head to stare at Akane. “You and Shampoo.”

Akane froze.

“The two of you. You’ve pretty obviously got it bad for each other.” Mousse’s words conveyed a finality, that he was stating an obvious fact.

Akane had known this eventuality was coming. “Y…yeah.” She admitted. “Is… is that a problem.”

“Sure is. Prepare to die.”

Akane’s eyes widened. “WH-“

Mousse instantly collapsed into laughter, cackling loudly as he held his stomach. “I’m joking! Akane, I’m joking, I promise!”

Akane slumped back into the sheets as her nerves calmed back down. She swatted him on the bicep. “Jerk.”

Mousse giggled as he mimed wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, sorry. I had to.”

Akane stuck her tongue out at him, before lying back down fully. “But… I mean… yeah?”

Mousse nodded with a smile. “Yeah. She’s pretty awesome, isn’t she?”

“I’m sorry.” Akane’s voice was soft. Mousse gave her a look. “What for?”

“Well, you know. You… had a crush on Shampoo for ages. You were crazy about her.”

Mousse sighed. “Yeah. I had my head up my ass for a while there, didn’t I?”

“Firmly lodged.”

The two of them shared a chuckle.

Mousse shrugged as he considered his words. “I think part of it was… frustration? Frustration how devoted Shampoo was to the Elders and chasing Ranma, even though she barely knew him? Then combine that with nutty teenage boy hormones. Call that an explanation on my part, not an excuse.”

“Have you told Shampoo that?”

“Yeah, actually. She and I buried the hatchet last winter. I… it finally hit me that my best friend since we were kids practically couldn’t stand me anymore.” Mousse’s voice faltered briefly at the memory, before he continued. “So I sat down with her, I told her I was sorry, and I asked if we could still be friends.”

Akane smiled. “Yeah?”

Mousse nodded with a smile. “Yeah. And she said yes. We started over.”

“That’s really good of you, Mousse. I’m really proud of you.”

Mousse rolled over on his side to face her, smiling. “So…?”

Akane cocked a confused eyebrow. “So?”

“So what do you like about Shampoo?”

Akane blushed in her cheeks, a sheepish smile coming over her as she glanced to the side with a giggle. “W-well, y’know… she’s so… she’s so _strong_ , and she’s super pretty, and I love her hair ‘cause it’s so long and floofy and purple… and I love her laugh, and her voice- she has such a lovely voice- and she’s so smart, and funny, a-a-and I just love how her name sounds- Shampoo, Shamp- _ooooo,_ it’s such a beautiful word, and-“

Akane’s smitten rambling was cut off by low chuckles from Mousse, who had been staring at Akane with an amused smile.

Akane caught his eyes, blushed heavily and buried her face in the crook of her elbow. “ _Shut uuuuup!”_

“Oh hush, I can tell you two are crazy about each other.” Mousse sat up, facing Akane with his arms crossed authoritatively. “Akane Tendo, I gift Shampoo to you. Be sure to feed and water her. If you ever hurt her, I’ll murder you myself.”

Akane gave a smile as she sighed. “Trust me, Mousse, I think I’ve learned my lesson on that front.” She glanced toward the window. “I don’t ever want to reenact Akane and Ranma’s Greatest Hits.”

Mousse smiled, carefully placing a hand on Akane’s shoulder. “I have no worries about that, Akane. I trust you. I can tell you’ve really changed in the past couple of years.”

Akane smiled, reaching up and squeezing his hand. “Really?”

“Really.”

Feeling like a weight she hadn’t even known she was carrying had vanished from her shoulders, Akane reached out, hugging Mousse around his middle. “Thanks, Mu Mu. You’re the best.”

The door to the apartment creaked open as Shampoo stepped inside, her hair still damp. She saw her two favorite people, and smiled widely. “Nihao, folks!” Shampoo reached into her pocket and produced a familiar pair of thick lenses. “Somebody order some glasses the size of a plate?”

Mousse’s eyes widened, and he waved an arm wildly. “You got them?! Oh, thank goodness!”

Smiling, Shampoo settled herself down on the bedroll next to the two of them. She gently took hold of Mousse’s wrist, opening his hand, before placing the glasses neatly in his palm. “Went ahead and cleaned them before I came here. Didn’t want to give you nasty glasses.”

Mousse slid the glasses over the tops of his ears, letting them rest on his nose. “Oh, wow, that’s so much better. I haven’t been able to see anything since April.” He glanced at Shampoo, then Akane, before quickly dragging the both of them into a tight hug. “It’s so good to finally see you both again.” He mumbled into Akane’s hair.

Akane giggled as Shampoo’s cheek was roughly pressed against hers by the force of the hug. “Glad that helpsh, Moushe.”

The three of them enjoyed the hug for almost a full minute, before releasing each other, and settling back into their seated positions.

“So.” Shampoo began. “What do we do now?”

Akane nodded vigorously. “Now that we’ve got Mousse back, we can start making some real plans.”

“Like getting out of Nerima.” Mousse contributed. “I know you guys mentioned that last night.”

Akane turned to Mousse. “Are you okay with that?”

Mousse shrugged. “I mean, yeah? I was always kinda eh about this town anyway.”

Shampoo crossed her arms, nodding. “Seconded. This town always give me bad vibes.”

A minor sense of relief came over Akane. “You too?”

“Oh, yes!” Shampoo gave her a sympathetic look. “No offense to town you grew up in, ‘Kane, but… I don’t know…”

“It stinks.” Akane whispered softly, staring out the window again at the clouds in the sky. There they hung, white and fluffy, yet they made Akane’s stomach curl in fear.

Mousse craned an eyebrow. “How so?”

Akane idly cracked her knuckles in her lap as she stared outside. “Well… haven’t you noticed how nobody who lives here wants to change? Or better themselves in any way? People are either born in Nerima and stay here their whole lives, or they move in without warning and move out just as quick. The locals who have been there won’t leave, and newcomers won’t stay. It’s so… _stagnant.”_

Shampoo reached over, squeezing one hand. Akane seemed to realize the rut she had been putting herself into, and turned away from the window. “There’s nothing left for me here in Nerima. I want to get out. I _need_ to get out. I want to do something with my life outside of become the master of a martial art with no other students, in a town where I’m outclassed every day, no matter how hard I try.”

Mousse nodded thoughtfully, staring up at the ceiling. “But where would we go?”

Akane shrugged. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Not China.” Shampoo’s eyes were sharp as daggers. “Don’t want to be anywhere near Amazon Village. Not touching that valley with a forty-foot pole.”

“Agreed.” Mousse shook his head. “I’ve had more than enough of the Elders and their influence for one lifetime.”

“Fair.” Akane nodded. “Maybe Europe? I’ve always wanted to see Europe.”

“Maybe.” Shampoo shrugged.

From Mousse: “What if we… I dunno, got an RV or something? Or a boat?”

Akane slowly raised an eyebrow. “Mousse, I _can’t swim.”_

Shampoo made a matching expression. “And don’t forget, we’re allergic to cold water, Duck Boy.”

Mousse shrugged. “It doesn’t _have_ to be a boat. I’m just suggesting we… I dunno, be nomadic? I’m not very attached to Nerima or the Village, but I’ve always loved travelling. Training trips, stuff like that.”

“Hmm.” Akane gave a begrudging nod, conceding the point. It wasn’t a _terrible_ idea. Everyone had a certain sense of wanderlust inside of them. She smiled as a romantic image came across her mind- her, turning a ship’s wheel, a smile on her face and salty wind in her hair.

She couldn’t lie, it had a certain appeal to it.

Akane shrugged. “Okay, point taken.”

Shampoo leaned forward, placing her hand between the three of them. “All in favor of leaving Nerima behind?”

Mousse raised his own hand. “Aye.”

Akane nodded. “Aye. But…” she trailed off, her gaze drawn to the window once more. She stared at the blue sky, lost in thought.

“’Kane?” Shampoo’s soft voice, questioning.

Akane turned to look at the two of them.

“Before we leave, I… I need to get this… _whatever_ it is, under control.”

Shampoo’s gaze softened, reached out and clutching Akane’s hand once more. “Akane… it’s okay. You have Ki, that’s not a bad thing.”

Akane took a deep breath, steeling herself. “I’m… don’t get me wrong, I think it _could_ be a good thing. But not now. Not while I can barely control it. Not while I cause blackouts and housefires and who knows what else every time I get a little mad.”

She looked the two of them in the eyes. Her gaze was like steel. “If I’m gonna move forward, like I want to, I don’t want to have to be afraid of… of _me.”_

Shampoo nodded understandingly. “And that’s okay, too.”

Mousse gave her a smile. “Whatever you need from us, we’re in your corner.”

Akane felt a swell of love and pride in her chest at the support, even after everything else.

She took a deep breath. “I… there’s something I want to try. Now, if that’s okay.”

~/~/~

In the time it took for the three of them to walk up the flight of stairs to the fenced-in rooftop of Aizawa Happiness Apartments, the midday sky had gone from blue with plenty of clouds, to being hidden behind a wall of slowly-darkening greys. The sudden overcast clouds hung low and fat over Nerima, Akane feeling like she could just reach up and run her fingers through them.

In the enclosed stairwell just behind her, Shampoo glanced worryingly out at the cloudy skyline over Nerima. “You sure ‘bout this?”

Not meeting Shampoo’s eyes, Akane nodded. Her fists were clenched at her sides. “I have to do this. I have to.”

Mousse placed a comforting hand on Akane’s shoulder from behind. “Whatever happens… we’re here.”

Akane nodded, with a smile. “Thanks, Mousse. Thank you, Shampoo. Thank you both.” She turned, wrapping the two of them in a tight hug. “You two are the best.”

The two of them hugged her back, just as tightly.

“You two just… just stay dry, okay? You can go back downstairs to the apartment and wait there, if you want.”

Mousse shook his head. “No dice. We’re here for you.”

Shampoo grinned. “You not getting rid of us that easy.”

Akane stifled a happy sniff as the hug broke. Allowing herself to hesitate for only a moment, she smiled at Shampoo, before leaning forward, pecking a small kiss on Shampoo’s lips. “Wish me luck.” Akane’s voice cracked.

Eyes wide, one fingertip barely touching her own lip, Shampoo smiled with a blush. “G-g-good luck, ‘Kane…”

With one last smile, Akane turned, staring out the stairwell door onto the flat roof. A wind blew into the stairwell, hot in Akane’s face, even as Shampoo and Mousse shivered behind her.

_I can do this._

Akane slipped one foot out of her shoe, then the other. The concrete was rough beneath her bare feet.

_It belongs to me._

She carefully slipped her shirt off, leaving her standing in the stairwell in only a sports bra and a baggy pair of shorts, her toned arms and legs in full view. The first sprinkles of rain pattered gently against the plush of her bare stomach.

_I am not the thunderbolt._

Taking a deep breath, Akane lifted one foot, and stepped out of the stairwell onto the roof.

_I am the whole goddamn hurricane._

The instant Akane was under the open sky, the bottom fell out. A torrential downpour of rain thundered down, soaking her instantly as she slowly walked across the roof. She didn’t flinch as untold gallons of water rained down on and around her. Within just a few steps, a layer of puddles had formed between her bare feet and the rough concrete rooftop, barefoot taps turning to muted splashes.

Safe under the cover of the stairwell’s roof, Mousse and Shampoo stared after her, their faces determined, silently cheering her on.

Akane reached the center of the rooftop, staring up at the pouring sky, water trickling down her face, over her lips and down her chin. She raised a hand, brushing her soaked bangs to one side.

_I can do this._

With one clap of her hands, she knelt down, gently easing herself into a cross-legged seated position. Thunder rumbled above her as she made herself comfortable.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she centered herself.

The rain poured down around her, cool, yet impossibly humid at the same time, that same horrible, stifling, bitter humidity that seemed to follow her everywhere she went.

In her lap, her two middle fingertips met, her other fingers cupping above them, not daring to touch. Water pooled in the natural bowl of her hands, trickling down to join the puddle beneath her.

Another slow, deep breath, and Akane settled into herself, beginning her meditation.

~/~/~

Time passed.

An hour.

Two.

Three.

Still the rain poured down.

Gutters filled and flowed.

Streets cleared out as people went inside, seeking somewhere to dry off until this latest storm passed.

Roofs pattered as countless raindrops plinked and plonked down.

Still Akane sat, letting the rain pour over her, soaking her to the bone.

In the stairwell, Mousse and Shampoo sat silently on the still-dry stairs, watching out into the storm as, across the rooftop, Akane sat, breathing in and out.

In her lap, her fingers did a painstakingly slow dance. Her middle fingers remained touching, her other fingers sliding closer and further away.

Sometimes two of them would meet, her two index fingers finally reaching each other, only to pull away for a while longer.

Other times, they would grow close, but never touch, falling back away from each other.

Akane felt the rain trickling over her face, mixing with her own sweat as the humidity clung to her like a wet plastic bag.

Her mind was a slow-burning storm on its own, a thousand thoughts vying for dominance.

_Why?_

_Why Ki? Why did I have to get Ki?_

_I can’t even use it. I don’t have any techniques that I can call useful or unique enough to justify adding Ki to them. So what’s even the point of it?_

_Akane took a deep, deep breath in_

_And out_

_The world around her was a dark blue void. Nothing but herself, the ground, and an endless, bluest blue._

_She allowed her eyes to wander through this landscape, somehow less surprised than she knew she should have been._

_Something small and white slowly fluttered into view._

_A small, white butterfly._

_Akane extended a finger, allowing the small whatever-it-was to land on her._

_A cascade of images and feelings in her mind’s eye, cast in a sickly yellow, drab greys and angry reds simmering through it like an oil patch on the water._

**_Ryoga’s fanged smile, acting like a friend to her face._ **

**_A tiny black piglet, lying on top of her in her bed, snuggling closer to her bosom. Her paying no mind, since P-chan was just an animal._ **

**_Ranma’s constant heckling of Ryoga, calling him pig-related names that she never understood the significance of, writing it off as more of Ranma’s usual weirdness._ **

**_Her putting a wiggling, squealing P-chan into the warm waters of the furo for a bath, only to be suddenly face-to-face with Ryoga Hibiki’s guilty face._ **

_Akane flinched, shaking the butterfly off of her hand. It fluttered upward, Akane staring after it, bewildered, before the soft, quiet rustle of a thousand paper-thin wings reached her ears._

_The butterfly vanished into an enormous flock of the same white butterflies, stretching above her in every direction._

_The sight of the swarm made Akane feel sick to her stomach._

_Despite herself, she stood to her feet, reaching upward, letting the insects rustle around her hand._

**_Nabiki’s face, sneering at Akane across her bedroom, rain pouring down outside as-_ **

****

_Akane jerked her hand back down, the usual humidity prickling all over her, making her itch. A low irritation began to build in the base of her stomach._

_Okay. So. This is very metaphysical. So what the eff does it mean?_

_A single butterfly swooped down from the flock, knocking into Akane’s face before she could even realize-_

**_-that she was being carried away, her arms bound at her sides, a faceless mass holding her in an iron grip, cackling as she struggled, not able to break loose, even with all of her constant training and sparring-_ **

****

_Akane growled, swatting at the butterfly on her face, prepared to render it to a white paste, damn the consequences._

_Her hand smacked her face, the butterfly already gone, vanished back into the swarm._

_Akane’s temper flared, and with a cry of anger, she began swatting at the swarm, batting pathetically at the cloud of bugs, that just recoiled and refilled where she had just struck._

_Over and over again she swiped, to laughable effect, until she lost her balance, stumbling onto one knee._

_With a sigh, Akane let herself slump onto the ground, lying on her back, staring up at the mocking swarm._

_She could feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes at her own impotence against something so small._

_It’s not fair._

_This was her all over, wasn’t it._

_While Ranma and Ryoga and every other stinking Man in Nerima duked it out in the streets with Ki blasts and psychic powers and everything else out of comic books, Akane was left in the corner of the same old Dojo, lifting the same old weights she had for so long, maintaining her strength, never increasing it. Practicing the same art and moves her father had come up with or learned from that waste of skin Happosai. Being the Heir To The School, a walking receptacle for moves made by old or retired men._

_Assuming, of course, that the latest Weirdo Of The Week hadn’t kidnapped her yet again, leaving her to be rescued by Ranma, usually in male form._

_Her usual anger, spinning round and round, in that infinite cycle of Rage-Guilt-Shame, Rage-Guilt-Shame, Rage-Guilt-Shame. Over and over and over again._

_Case in point, here she was, trying to kill a flock of butterflies by anger alone._

_That same anger that had driven so many away from her, burned so many bridges into oblivion._

_Ranma._

_Yuka._

_Sayuri._

_Ukyo._

_Konatsu._

_Nabiki._

_All of these and probably more._

_And for what? For what?_

_For the fleeting satisfaction of indulging her own temper, feeling that bite of insults on her tongue. Drinking poison, and waiting for everyone else to die._

_Anger. Righteous Anger. Pointless Anger. Selfish Anger._

_A question floated to the front of her mind, for the second time in the past day._

**_Is that really such a bad thing?_ **

****

_Of course it was. She had lost her friends, her family, her home, the boy she had once loved, maybe just a little. There was no good to any of it. Just a flame that would burn itself out, leaving only a smoldering forest._

_Another butterfly gently circled downward, toward her. She didn’t move, letting it descend. Whatever it did, she deserved it._

_It alighted on the tip of her nose as-_

**_-she swung her heavy schoolbag at a howling member of the Furinkan Swim Team, armed with a pool skimmer. It connected with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him as he fell. Akane was already dodging under a heavy socket wrench swung by another member of the Hentai Horde, and who knew where he had even gotten that._ **

**_All around her, dozens of boys, yelling and demanding that Akane date them, despite the solid beating she gave them every morning._ **

**_To the side, between Furinkan’s gates, stood Tatewaki Kuno himself, bokken at the ready, waiting for the others to tire her, the better to give him a fighting chance at beating Akane. This, of course, despite his daily thrashing at her hands._ **

**_Cracking the nose of a baseball player with a backhand as she dodged a tennis racket, Akane glared Kuno in the eyes, and knew in her heart of hearts that she would never hate anyone like she hated him._ **

****

_Akane scowled up at the swarm of butterflies._

_She could almost feel them judging her with their beady little eyes._

_I’m not apologizing for that one. What was I supposed to do, let them stampede over me? Be a submissive, airheaded little bimbo and fall into Kuno’s arms?_

_It was my pride. My dignity. And I’m not gonna apologize for wanting to keep that._

_She hauled herself to her feet, not breaking eye contact with the swarm._

_One hand shot upward, snatching a handful of butterflies, images bombarding her like a strobe light._

**_A pitiful, lilac-colored cat, lying forgotten in a kennel, consigning herself to a long life of never being human again._ **

**_A duck, squinting as he flew, no idea where he was going, only that he had to find his best friend._ **

****

_Akane felt her blood begin to boil at the memories._

_She knew she needed to calm herself, get the anger under control…except…_

_No._

_Screw it._

_This anger was warranted, and no one could ever tell her otherwise._

_Was this fair?_

_Was it fair that Shampoo’s own grandmother had modelocked her own great-granddaughter for failing to kidnap a man into marriage?_

_Was it fair that Mousse had been deprived of his one way of being able to see, modelocked and thrown outside like yesterday’s garbage?_

_Was being angry over these things really that selfish?_

_If it is, then fine._

_Let me be selfish._

_These are My Friends. No one gets to treat them like that. Not even me._

_This is My Art. I’ve practiced it more in the past few years than Dad or anyone else has. I have more of a right to call it mine than anyone. I don’t care how outclassed I am, it’s mine, and no one can take that from me._

_This is My Pride. I’m proud of what I can do, of who I am. Of course I’ve made mistakes, and I’ll regret them for the rest of my days. But I will never apologize for defending myself._

_Let me be the shepherd, and let my flock be great and ever-growing. Let me be the general, and let my army be cared for, and protected._

_These things belong to me. I will kill Buddha himself with my bare hands before I give them up._

_These are MY friends! MY art! MY dignity! MY techniques! How dare you try to take these from me, because they are **MINE**!_

****

And with a start, Akane suddenly realized:

She wasn’t humid anymore.

There was no longer a sickly sticky heat clinging to her, making her itch and sweat.

Now?

Now the air and water surrounding her and trickling down her form was… cool.

It was so blessedly, deliciously frigid, like sinking into a cool river.

Akane let out a long, blissful sigh of relief as the coldness washed over her. In her lap, the tips of her fingers and thumbs had finally met, forming a round circle with her hands.

Akane’s eyes slowly opened for the first time in a few hours. In the dark sky above her, thunder rumbled, like the clatter of a drum.

Barely realizing she was doing it, she turned her head to look toward the sky, slowly reaching one open palm upward toward the heavens.

In the stairwell, Shampoo slowly sat straight up as Akane moved. “Mousse, look. What happening-“

For just a second, the world lit up in a blinding flash, followed by a sudden rush of air, like an explosion in reverse, or a great ball of silence where a sound should have been.

Mousse and Shampoo’s visions where blotted out by sheer white light, which slowly subsided and faded as the two of them squinted across the rooftop.

Still sitting where she had been, Akane stared, wide-eyed, at the lightning she had caught.

It sat there, a little glowing ball on her palm, enough natural electricity to kill a man. It was so hot, yet so comforting, like a miniature sun. Tiny sparks popped off the sides of it, flickering painlessly around her fingers.

The hairs on her head floated aimlessly behind her, the finer hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing at full attention.

A warmth rested comfortably in the base of her stomach, as if she had just drank a very good bottle of something alcoholic. Her veins and muscles pumped with something like adrenaline as her Ki flowed through her every pore.

As clear as day, a name popped into her head, and it was so:

_Indra Fist._

Akane turned her head back upward toward the dark clouds. With a simple flick of her fingers, the ball of lightning flung itself back into the sky, vanishing from view in a heartbeat, the sound of thunder signaling its return to its proper place.

There was a smile on Akane’s face, and a peaceful look in her eyes.

She stared up at the sky, and _flex_ ed her will.

Almost instantly, the storm broke.

The rain slowed, then ceased.

The clouds slid aside, the dark cloud cover quickly giving way to blue skies.

The afternoon sun shone down on Akane’s face, who breathed deeply, drinking in its warmth.

“’Kane?” A quiet, inquiring voice from behind her.

Akane chuckled softly, before uncrossing her legs, wincing as her joints popped after sitting unmoving for so long. She stretched one arm high above her head, groaning in exertion as she unkinked herself, before turning to face Shampoo and Mousse.

The two Amazons stood there, blinking in the bright afternoon sun, their eyes hopeful. Shampoo stepped forward, gently interlacing one hand with Akane’s. “That… that was amazing…”

Mousse nodded vigorously, absolutely lost for words.

With a big smile, Akane swept the two of them into a mighty hug, her own head sandwiched between Shampoo and Mousse’s respective voluminous locks.

“Yeah. It was, wasn’t it.”

Akane suddenly bounced backwards, an enormous grin shining on her face. “I did it! I _did_ it!” She giddily bounced side-to-side, one foot to the other, still clutching their hands as she celebrated.

Mousse grinned. “Congratulations, Akane! How do you feel?”

Akane giggled loudly as she leaned in, placing an enormous smooch right on Shampoo’s lips. Shampoo went stock-still, her face going a deep red.

Akane leaned back, laughing at Shampoo’s face, before looking at Mousse. “I feel… good. I feel better than I have in a long, long time.”

With one last glance at her open palm, Akane nodded. “And… I think I’m ready.”

She looked at her two companions. “Come on. I think we have some packing to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the non-Steven Universe fans reading this story: the mindscape Akane finds herself in is directly based on the same one from the SU episode Mindful Education, which is used in a similar fashion. Since this story is canonical to my other SU-Ranma crossover fic, it seemed appropriate.
> 
> Akane's realization is based on Terry Pratchett's similar use of the same for Tiffany Aching.
> 
> We're almost done with this one, folks. The remaining chapters will consist of a three-part Epilogue. I hope they provide a satisfactory closing to this story. Thank you all so much for sticking with me on this self-indulgent tale.


	8. Epilogue 1: And They Are Off, Once Again

“Hey, Mama. It’s me again.”

Akane smoothed her pants under her as she settled comfortably onto the low concrete border. Before her, her mother’s photo smiled from its placement in the front of her gravestone.

The orange slices she had left on top of the headstone the last time she’d been here, a week and a thousand years ago, were gone. Perhaps they’d been taken by someone who needed them. Or maybe Kasumi or Dad had come by and cleaned things up. That was a nice thought. They hadn’t been in a long time.

Akane glanced over her shoulder, back at the entrance. Behind her, at the mouth of the small cemetery, Shampoo and Mousse waited, giving her the space she needed.

"I wanted to stop by before... before we leave." Akane swallowed roughly. "We talked it over the other day, and we all agreed. We need to leave Nerima. Mousse found someone to take over the lease, so... we're all packed."

"We're gonna head out of Tokyo and head West. Might go to Okinawa. Maybe even further into Eurasia. I'm super nervous, but..." she smiled to herself. "I'm ready. And I'll have Mousse and Shampoo with me all the way."

Akane felt her eyes prickle just a little, despite herself. "So... yeah, I guess this is probably goodbye."

She reached forward, and tapped the front of the headstone gently with her fingertips. "I dunno. Maybe I'll come back to Nerima one day, but... well, probably not."

The hard stone was cool under her fingers. Akane pulled herself to her feet, smiling at her mother's picture. "Don't worry about me. We'll be fine. Just..." she paused, then pressed onward. "Wherever you are, just... keep an eye on Dad and Kasumi, okay? Nabiki too. I... I want things to get better for them too."

With one last smile, Akane reached forward, placing a small, spherical object on top of the headstone, letting it rest there in the afternoon sun.

"I love you, Mama. Always. Wish me luck."

With one last, long look, Akane allowed her fingertips to slide off of the top of the headstone, before she turned away from it, facing her friends at the exit to the cemetary.

As she approached, the smooth gravel crunching beneath her shoes, Shampoo straightened up, smiling at her with that small, sweet smile that made Akane's heart skip a beat. "All good?"

Akane nodded with a smile. "All good."

Sharing their expressions, Mousse nodded. "Good." He bent over, wrapping his hands around the handles of the cheap suitcase that held all of their possessions in the world. "Are we ready?" He asked, straightening up.

A nod from Akane. "Yeah. Definitely."

Mousse gave her a rapid salute with his free hand. "Then let's head out, Mon Capitaine!"

Akane giggled as she fell into step at Mousse's side. As the two of them started walking, Shampoo paused behind them, smiling fondly at her two favorite people.

She glanced over her shoulder back at the cemetery, then turned to face it. Clasping her hands before her, she bowed deeply.

"Miss Tendo... thank you for Akane. She is..." Shampoo chuckled softly. "She is wonderful person. I promise I take care of her."

With one last, kind smile, Shampoo straightened back up, before turning and jogging lightly to catch up with Akane and Mousse, her shoes clicking against the pavement.

Yayoi Tendo's grave was silent in the afternoon air of light summer. Atop the headstone, a single orange sat, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

~/~/~

The train door slid open silently before her.

Akane stood on the other side of the yellow line, staring into the train car.

” **This train is bound for: Akihabara Station.”** The speaker droned above her.

And here she was again. Staring into the same train that Ranma had disappeared into, almost two years ago.

Akane felt her stomach flutter with a strange cocktail of feelings. Anticipation. Anxiety. Eagerness.

At her side, she felt Shampoo’s fingers close around her elbow. Shampoo gave her a smile. “You ready?”

Akane nodded. “Yeah.”

She reached both hands to her sides, taking Shampoo’s hand on her left, and Mousse’s on her right. She squeezed their hands, feeling them squeeze back reassuringly in return.

“Let’s go.”

Akane lifted her foot, and stepped forward onto the train.

There was no siren. No pointing of fingers, or accusations or condemnations. No one gave her a second glance.

Keeping Shampoo and Mousse’s hands tight around hers, Akane led the two of them toward the back of the car. The train was relatively uncrowded, the three of them able to find a pair of benches facing each other.

Akane settled onto the bench. Shampoo nestled in next to her, laying her head on Akane’s shoulder. She breathed her scent in deeply, humming softly. Mousse sat down across from the two of them, smiling at them as he slid the suitcase under the bench.

The doors slid closed silently.

The train lurched forward, before stopping slowly, not yet having left the station.

A voice came over the intercom.

“ _Attention, passengers. This train will be temporarily delayed, due to an electrical short. We apologize for any inconvenience, and thank you for your patience.”_

Shampoo gave Akane and Mousse a confused look. Akane shrugged. “Hey, don’t look at me.”

Mousse clicked his tongue as he glanced toward the front. “Nuts. That takes some of the drama out of the situation, doesn’t it?”

“Hmmm.” Akane furrowed her brow thoughtfully.

She took a deep breath, centering herself.

Then, she tapped one foot gently on the floor of the train car. A single blue spark popped in the air off the toe of her shoe.

Instantly, the train began to lurch forward again.

“ _Passengers, please disregard the previous announcement. The electrical issue seems to be fixed. This train is now bound for Akihabara station.”_

Mousse gave her a smirk. Akane whistled innocently, finding something interesting on the ceiling to look at as Shampoo giggled knowingly, as the train moved forward, as Nerima grew smaller and smaller behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter than usual. This was originally intended to go at the end of the previous chapter, but what I wrote just seemed like a better stopping point for that one. 
> 
> Two more epilogues to come after this.


	9. Epilogue 2: Dynasty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter contains a scene of physical violence that, although not intended as a depiction of such, may be triggering to those with traumas related to domestic violence. Independent of this scene, a different character attempts actual domestic violence later, but is stopped. Please use your own best judgement before reading.

**_December_ **

**_Nerima Suites Apartments_ **

**_The Nerima Ward_ **

**_Four Months after the destruction of the Tendo Home_ **

**_Two Years after Ranma left Nerima_ **

****

Kasumi lay stiffly under her sheets, hands folded over her stomach as she stared at the dark ceiling above her. She felt her hands rise and fall gently as she breathed, lost in thought in the darkness, lit only by a cheap nightlight on the other wall.

Outside, a cold December wind blew.

Her bedroom in this new apartment was very spartan, not having had much of a chance to get anything to decorate it with since the fire. The walls were bare, the only furniture Kasumi’s bedroll, a chair, and a few books she had gotten her hands on a week ago. On the floor near her head, a clock radio sat, its glowing numbers glaring at her through the darkness.

Kasumi supposed they were lucky, in retrospect. After the fire, Father’s fellow partners in the town council had arranged this housing for the four of them- Father, Nabiki, Mr. Saotome, and herself. Councilwoman Ochiai, bless her, had put down enough rent for half a year, long enough for Father to… to ideally, get back on his feet.

Ideally.

It helped that the family would be fine financially. Father’s town council paychecks were enough to pay for rent with a comfortable amount left over, and Nabiki would chip in her pay from that Yakuza front company if she were pressed. Kasumi knew that they were lucky on that front. Most families would have been destitute upon such a staggering loss.

Still. Things were getting bad, again.

Akane was gone. Just like the house.

Kasumi wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, that stormy day when the house she had grown up in burned to ashes in less than a minute, but Akane clearly had something to do with it. Kasumi wished she could say she was surprised. Akane always had a temper to her.

Some of that temper had clearly rubbed off on Nabiki as well. Since the fire, Nabiki had been snappier, more irritable. Not even in the dramatic, blow-your-top way Akane used to, just a casual, constant anger.

Father had taken Akane leaving the hardest. It was just like after Mother had died, ten years ago. He spent the days moping around the apartment, staring out the window with a grief-filled expression. He smoked like a chimney now, even more so than before. Kasumi thanked whoever was listening he hadn’t crawled back into a bottle yet, but even so, the signs were there.

Mr. Saotome, by contrast, had barely noticed any change. He still lounged around all day, not chipping in or doing any housework. He hardly glanced at Nabiki or Kasumi, regarding them as little more than window dressing. He’d spend most of the time either watching TV with Father, or trying to cajole him into a game of shogi before remembering that the shogi board was destroyed in the fire, and they hadn’t gotten a new one yet.

Occasionally, when Kasumi pressed him, he’d promise to get a job sometime soon, or pitch in around the apartment.

So far, nothing had come of it. Kasumi hadn’t seen him wash a single dish, or heard word of a single job application.

Kasumi felt miserable. She felt like a heavy iron weight had been placed in her chest, where it was rubbing against her heart, leaving rust stains and oil.

Kasumi wasn’t stupid. She knew what people thought of her. The submissive _Yamato Nadeshiko,_ an air-headed bimbo who didn’t have any thought process beyond cooking and cleaning for the men.

She supposed the reputation wasn’t entirely unwarranted. It was just that, after Mother died and Father was swallowed by his grief… _somebody_ had to step up and take care of the home. Father couldn’t, Nabiki was more interested in her mercenary work, and Akane had been practically a child at the time.

So, yes. Kasumi had tabled her ambitions of being a diplomat, and took over the housework. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, upkeep. Even through the tumultuous years of Ranma staying in her home and the chaos that followed, the height of excitement for her became when she had an excuse to break out the power tools for some home repair.

For the better part of a decade, the routine became comfortable.

Maintain. Upkeep. Don’t rock the boat.

And where had that gotten them?

She was miserable, that much was obvious. Akane was gone. Ranma was gone. The house was gone. Nabiki was growing more and more cynical by the day. Father had hardly spoken a word in months. Mr. Saotome was still freeloading off of them all.

Kasumi’s failures chewed on her. How she had failed Akane, how she had failed Ranma.

Akane, her own sister, had been eaten alive by her own demons and guilt over her anger and her actions, until it all came spilling out.

Ranma? Who even knew where Ranma was. He had vanished into the world, two years ago now.

Familiar images, seared into her memory, floated in the front of her mind.

_Akane, eyes literally glowing with rage as she and Nabiki shouted hatred at each other, the rain thundering down outside._

_Ranma, eyes red and bloodshot with tears, curled up at the bottom of the linen closet, staring up at her with wide, fearful eyes._

When she found Ranma crying in the linen closet, what had Kasumi done?

She had bitten her tongue, remained silent, closed the door and never spoken of the incident again, to Ranma or to anyone.

When Akane yelled her frustrations at the world, at Ranma, at Nabiki, at anyone, what had Kasumi done?

She had perhaps chided Akane gently for her temper, or just ignored what was happening, maybe left the room to brew tea.

Nothing substantial. Nothing of value. Just patching over holes.

Kasumi sighed heavily, turning over in her bedroll in the otherwise bare room. Across the hall, Nabiki’s room was silent. Next door, the room Father and Mr. Saotome shared was also silent, save for the distant snores of a sleeping panda.

Kasumi clenched the sheets in her hands, regret falling over her like a blanket.

_I should have done more._

~/~/~

Eventually, sleep took her.

Time passed.

She found herself awaking from a dreamless night. As she cracked one eye open, she took in the bare wall she was facing. The first gleams of morning sunlight trickled in from the window.

With a sigh as she blinked the sleep from her eyes, Kasumi rolled over onto her back, stretching her arms above her head as she prepared to get up and start the day.

Nabiki froze above her like a deer in the headlights. Her eyes grew huge, filled with the fear and guilt of a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. Her feet were in her socks, the better to muffle her footsteps on the hard floor.

In her hands: a camera.

For several long seconds, the two sisters stayed there, frozen stock-still, wide eyes locked with each other.

In the lens of that camera, Kasumi saw reflected, her own mistakes.

A dozen cameras and lewd photos, found while cleaning the old house, put back like she had never been there to disturb it.

Photos of Ranma, in various scanty outfits, looking embarrassed enough to melt into the floor; or asleep in his girl mode, the photos clearly taken without his knowledge or consent.

A crowd of perverted customers, all eager to pay through the nose for the photos Nabiki had taken.

A future, spiraling downward, more photos taken and sold, used as blackmail for more photos, and around and around it went.

“No.” Kasumi uttered softly.

Nabiki cringed backward, panic seizing her. “I-I-I-“

“No.”

Kasumi threw the sheets off of herself, climbing to her feet, a righteous indignation simmering in the base of her gut. “No. No, no, no.”

Nabiki took a step backward, hands shaking. “S-s-sis, lemme explain-“

“No.” Kasumi snatched the camera from Nabiki’s outstretched hands. “No more.”

Her hands now empty, Nabiki felt a twinge of fear for the first time in a very long time. There wasn’t a lot that could make the former Blackmail Queen of Nerima quake in her boots. Not even Akane at her angriest, or Ranma at his most indignant, or any of the mad martial artists that rampaged around town held that honor.

Kasumi, though? Sweet, quiet Kasumi, on that rarest occasion where her patience ran out, and the corners of her mouth grew tight, and the whites of her eyes seemed so big?

There was nothing on this earth that scared Nabiki more.

“K-Kasumi, listen, I-“

“No. No more.” Kasumi pointed an angry, accusatory finger directly in Nabiki’s face. “I have bitten my tongue for so long, it looks like a dog toy. But no more.” She pointed at the camera in her other hand, holding it away from Nabiki’s grasp. “This? This is _sick._ This has always been _sick._ This stops. This stops right now.”

Nabiki’s usually-calculating mind was spinning as her eldest sister laid into her. Desperate for something to cling onto, she straightened up, trying to make herself just as tall as Kasumi. “Y-you can’t tell me what to do! That _sick_ hobby of mine is the one that paid-“

_SMACK._

Nabiki was cut off by the flat of Kasumi’s open palm striking across her cheek. Pain washed across her senses as Nabiki cried out.

She held one hand to her stinging cheek, staring at Kasumi with wide, shocked eyes as Kasumi glared down at her.

Nabiki gritted her teeth. “You think you can just-“

_SMACK. SMACK._

Nabiki fell backwards, sobbing as she clutched her hand to her hot cheek. Kasumi shook her stinging hand at her side. “I didn’t enjoy that, Nabiki. You’re my sister, and I love you. I genuinely hate to see harm come to you.” She knelt down, looking her sister in the eyes. “But I will not have _this-“_ she held up the camera for emphasis. “-in my house. Not now, not ever again.”

Nabiki sniffled, glaring at her sister. “I can’t believe you hit me.”

Kasumi nodded. “I did, and I’m sorry. But this has to stop. I stood by while you did it to Ranma for years. And I know about the pictures of Akane in your old blackmail folder. Don’t think I didn’t.”

Nabiki flinched, unable to meet Kasumi’s eyes.

“Nabiki. You need to learn some responsibility. For your actions, and for this household. You think Akane was the only one with some anger to express? You’ve got a storm coming your way, sweet summer child.” Kasumi placed the camera on the floor between them. “First, I want you to return this to the store.”

“Didn’t keep the receipt…” Nabiki mumbled.

“Too bad for you. Sell it, then. I will not have it in this apartment. And believe me, Nabiki, I’ll know.” Kasumi stood up, staring down at her sister. “Starting with your next paycheck, you will also be contributing at least forty percent into the household funds.”

Nabiki’s eyes grew wide at the mention of lost profits. “What?! I can’t-“

“You can, and you will. And if I catch you involved in any more of _this-“_ Kasumi pointed at the camera once more. “I’ll throw you out on your ear so fast, you won’t know what day it is. Do you understand?”

Nabiki sat there on her rear, in sullen silence.

“ _Do you understand?”_ Kasumi repeated, her voice low.

“…understand.” Nabiki mumbled.

 _I’ll be adding some extra locks onto my bedroom door before the day is out as well,_ Kasumi added to herself.

With a final nod: “Good. I’m glad we had this talk, Nabiki. Excuse me.” Kasumi’s nightdress fluttered as she stepped over the slumped Nabiki. She slid her bunny slippers on by the door, before stepping out into the hallway.

She was on a roll, and wasn’t about to let this sudden energy and resolve go to waste.

Kasumi strode past the door to the bedroom Father shared with Mr. Saotome, heading straight for the kitchen. The drawers were filled with lightly-used secondhand utensils, picked up from here or there. Walking directly to the sink, Kasumi grabbed a glass from the previous night, placed it under the faucet, and turned the hot water on.

As the glass began to fill, Kasumi turned and opened the middle drawer, and calmly fished out the item she was looking for, and tucked it into the belt of her nightdress. She turned on her heel, shut off the faucet, and plucked the wet glass filled with hot water from the basin of the sink. Now holding both the glass and the utensil she was looking for, she headed back to the hallway, walking quickly.

Not pausing to knock, she opened Father’s bedroom door, striding in. On the bedroll to the right, a large panda snored, fast asleep.

Genma Saotome was awoken with a start as hot water was poured over him. He sputtered as he sat up, fumbling for his glasses next to the bedroll. As he shoved them over the bridge of his nose, the first thing he saw were a pair of bunny slippers, staring at him.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Kasumi’s sweet, soft voice came from above him. “Saotome-san, have you given any thought to the matter we discussed earlier this week? And the week before that?”

Dripping wet, Genma stared stupidly up at Kasumi, uncomprehending. “What in God’s name are you talking about, girl?”

Kasumi’s smile grew tighter. “Your job. You said you would get a job to pitch in to the household funds. Just a little. Do you remember?”

Genma waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll do it when I feel like it. Don’t you have breakfast to start?”

“Get up.”

Genma paused. He looked up at Kasumi, genuine surprise evident on his face. “What?”

“Get. Up.”

Without warning, Kasumi quickly leaned down, gripping the collar of Genma’s shirt with a tight hand. Genma’s eyes widened as he was suddenly hauled to his feet by the impossibly strong homemaker. He yelped in surprise and pain as one hand was pinned behind him with Kasumi’s other hand.

Soun sat up in his bedroll, wide-eyed. “Kasumi? What’s happening?!”

Kasumi gave her father a smile as she hustled Genma to the bedroom doorway. “Nothing’s wrong, Father. Nothing at all.”

Genma struggled and sputtered in Kasumi’s iron grip as she walked him down the hall. This made no sense to him. He was a Master of the Saotome School of Martial Arts! How was this weak little girl overpowering him? What tricks was she using?

“You know,” Kasumi spoke conversationally, “I’ve put up with a lot from you, Saotome-san. I’ve put up with your foul mouth, and your foul mind, and your bottomless greed, all because my Father, for reasons I can not comprehend, enjoys your presence.”

“What are you doing?!” Genma roared as they rounded the corner into the living room.

“Something I should have done long ago.” Kasumi responded quietly.

Soun and Nabiki stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, from the hallway as Kasumi flung the door to the apartment open, shoving Genma out into the hallway of the apartment building.

“Go. Go out, and get a job.”

Now free of her grasp, Genma rounded on Kasumi, drawing himself up to his full height. “Now you listen here, woman! I will not be shoved around by someone like you!”

“Get a job. And not something like sweeping for Doctor Tofu, that you quit after a week. Come back with a real job, or don’t come back at all.”

Genma drew an enraged hand back, intent on putting this weakling in her place. “Arrogant bitch-“

With a flash, Kasumi drew the spatula from its spot tucked in her nightdress belt, swatting the plastic flat of it against Genma’s hand. Genma squawked, withdrawing his hand, only for the spatula to slap against his face. He stumbled backward against the opposite wall.

“You watch your _spewing_ mouth, you animal!” Kasumi shouted, her voice echoing in the empty hallway.

Genma’s eyes were suddenly drawn over Kasumi’s shoulder, within the apartment. A frantic Nabiki was holding back Soun, whose eyes were wide and filled with a homicidal rage.

Genma’s oldest, closest friend pointed a vengeful finger at him. “Genma Saotome, don’t you _EVER_ try to lay hands on my daughter again! I’ll kill you where you stand, you wretch!”

Kasumi glanced over her shoulder. “Let me handle this, Father.” Without another word, she kicked the door shut with one slippered foot, leaving Genma alone in the hallway with someone he was increasingly becoming more and more frightened of.

Kasumi leaned forward, speaking softly and dangerously. “You disgust me. And you shame us all, as if we could be shamed any more than we already are. And if Father’s voice just now is any indication, it would appear what little hospitality you had left has been rescinded.”

Kasumi pointed past Genma, down the hall, away from the apartment. “Go. Don’t come back. And if you ever do get it in your head to come back, just remember: I’m the most dangerous woman in this apartment with a kitchen knife. If I ever see you again, I’ll grind your bones to make my bread.”

Genma felt a slowly rising sense of hopelessness, as he remembered exactly how homeless and penniless he was without Soun, and without Nodoka.

He fell to his knees, looking pleadingly up at his evictor. “Kasumi… I’m-“

“ _Leaving.”_ She finished for him, venomously.

With one last look at him, Kasumi turned, and strode back into the apartment, leaving a lost-looking Genma kneeling in the hallway behind her. She shut the door sharply, the click of the lock like the vicious period at the end of the sentence.

In the living room, Soun was bent over the back of a chair, breathing heavily. One hand covered both eyes. Nabiki had vanished into her room.

Kasumi took a deep breath, steadying herself. This was going to be the hardest part.

It was time to be strong, once again, for her family.

She silently stepped toward her father, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Father.”

Soun straightened up, wiping his eyes. “I… I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I… never thought Genma would…”

Kasumi nodded. “I know.” Her father smelled of tobacco and ash. His fingertips were stained the yellow of nicotine.

She slowly guided him over to the couch, gently sitting the two of them down, side-by-side. Soun was clearly heartbroken, staring at the closed door to the apartment.

“I let that man live in our house. For years, I let him live near you both. I’m a terrible father. I’m so sorry, Kasumi.”

Kasumi drew her father into a hug, holding him close to her. “You’re not a bad Father. You aren’t.”

Soun sighed, breaking the hug, slumping back against the couch. “I’ve lost my youngest daughter. My future son-in-law flew the coop, and my best friend just tried to assault my eldest. I think I’ve officially hit a new low.”

Kasumi took his hands in hers, steeling herself with a deep breath. “Father… do you trust me?”

The question came as a surprise. Soun looked at Kasumi in confusion. “Do I what?”

“Do you trust me, Father.”

Soun held his eldest daughter’s hands in his own. “Of course, sweetheart. Of course I trust you.”

“Okay. Good.” Another slow, deep breath from Kasumi. “Father, I’d like you to officially name me Matriarch of the Tendo family.”

Soun blinked. “Pardon?”

“Father, I’m going to be blunt. After Mother passed, I had to take over the household.” Kasumi felt a pang of guilt as Soun’s eyes grew misty at the mention of his late wife, but she pressed onward. “I know you miss her every day. We all do. But things have slipped since then. We almost lost the house, that first year. I hate to admit it, but we would have, if Nabiki hadn’t started her… her _old_ work.”

Soun nodded. “I’ve regretted that year ever since then. I’m so sorry, my darling.”

Kasumi smiled. “I forgave you long ago, Father. But to be frank, outside of your paychecks from the town council… what have you _done_ , in the past few years?”

Soun’s silent, guilty look was all the answer she needed.

“I understand that your heart isn’t in teaching the Tendo School anymore, and that’s okay. But someone has to take charge of this household. Someone who is willing and able to get us back on our feet. And… I’m sorry, Father, but… I don’t trust your ability to do so.”

Soun chuckled bitterly. “Geez, sweetie, tell me how you really feel.” He sighed deeply. “It’s true, though. After… after Yayoi passed, I… the world just seemed… so much less bright anymore. It seemed… _wrong_ to be happy without her.”

Kasumi nodded. “I know. We all miss her. We always will. But would she want us to mope around and let ourselves slide into destitution without her?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then there need to be some changes around here. That means extra work with the town council, at least for now.”

Soun nodded, a soft, proud smile on his face.

“And it also means we start cutting down on the cigarettes.” Kasumi continued, giving him a firm look.

Soun sighed dramatically. “I know. I should have quit those things long ago. Just don’t make me go cold turkey, okay?”

Kasumi chuckled, drawing her father into another hug. “It’s a deal.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Father.”

With a smile, Kasumi stood up from the couch. “Now! If you’ll excuse me, I do actually need to start on breakfast.”

As she stepped toward the kitchen, Soun’s voice, quiet and hopeful:

“Would you… like some help?”

Kasumi paused. She turned, looking at her father, who looked back with that kind smile she hadn’t seen in the better part of a decade.

After a moment, Kasumi smiled. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Soun stepped past her, into the kitchen. “I won’t lie, I’m definitely a little rusty. Bear with your old man.”

Kasumi laughed lightly. “That’s just fine. We’ll work on it together.”

As she rattled a pan out of the cabinet, Kasumi heard a sheepish cough from behind her. She turned, glancing at the hallway.

Nabiki stood there, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “Uh… can… can I, uh…”

Kasumi nodded. “Of course. Why don’t you set the table?”

Nabiki nodded quietly, her thoughts and face unreadable as she began to gather plates and chopsticks.

The apartment’s kitchen was small and cramped, between the three of them. The three of them bumped into each other frequently, or slid past each other carefully. The eggs in the omelet were burned, and the rice was undercooked.

Even so, for the first time in a very long time, Kasumi felt hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter/epilogue left!


	10. Epilogue 3: I am not in Need

**_Three Years Later_ **

**_Somewhere on the Mediterranean Sea_ **

**_January 1 st_ **

****

_Dear Ranma,_

_Wow, it feels weird to write those words._

_I know you'll never read this letter, and that's okay. I've been wanting to do this for a while now anyway._

_First, and most importantly: I'm sorry._

_I'm so, so sorry for everything. How I treated you, hit you, called you a pervert nonstop. It wasn't fair, and you didn't deserve it. I know I broke your heart, and I'm so sorry._

_I felt horrible about it for a long time after you left. I still do. I hate that I became that person, let my anger take over me in so many ways. I've been working on my anger for a long time since then, but that doesn't excuse what I did and said. So please just know: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I hope you can forgive me._

_I suppose that's why I'm sitting here now, writing this letter you'll never read. Closure? Catharsis? To say goodbye? I don't know._

_I hope you've been able to find happiness. I really do. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I get the feeling that you leaving Nerima may have been the best thing to happen, to you, me, and everyone else. I get the feeling Ukyo and Konatsu aren't too far from wherever you are._

_As for me, I left Nerima three years ago now. Writing that down, it really struck me how long it's been. It feels like a lifetime, and no time at all. Shampoo and Mousse are with me too._

_I feel good about things here. It'd make you laugh to know, I've finally learned how to swim. Kind of a necessity around here._

_It’s not always easy. Maintaining the boat is just as back-breaking as they say it is. Dad always said he’d never buy a boat, that it’s just a hole you pour money into. And to an extent, he’s right. But sometimes, it’s worth it._

_I try really hard. That’s another thing that’s difficult. Sometimes something or someone will piss me off, and I can practically feel myself get real mean and ugly inside._

_I don’t think it’ll ever really go away. But that’s okay. I know how to steer it now. I can control it instead of being controlled by it. I can do some good with it sometimes too._

_Life is good. It really is. I hope it's as good for you as it is for us._

_I suppose all that's left to say is: Goodbye, Good Luck, and may we never meet again._

_Love,_

_Akane_

Akane signed the last kanji with a flourish. With a smile, she stuck the pen into the front pocket of her overalls.

The waves gently rocked the boat beneath her as she sat on the roof of the cabin, her legs criss-crossed beneath her. Her feet were clad in a pair of big, heavy boots. A comfy blue turtleneck tied the ensemble together.

A cool, salty morning breeze blew off the water. Akane folded the paper in half, before leaning back on her palms, letting the warm sunrise shine on her face. She closed her eyes, relishing both the warmth and the chill.

_It's really been three years already, huh._

A lot had changed since they left Japan. Not least of all was the vessel that had been their home for the past year and a half.

The waves lapped gently against the boat's hull, the folded sails rustled gently in the breeze above her. An empty glass champagne bottle, fished from last night’s trash, sat next to her, undisturbed by the slowly rocking boat.

It had been a long, hard job restoring this boat from the barely-functioning leaky tub they had found it as, to... well, a home.

But they had done it. And done it quite well, if Akane said so herself.

Akane's physique had changed as well. A very comfortable layer of squish had formed over her midsection, her newfound plush the result of an altered diet.

It turned out, having a perfectly muscular body reduced one's buoyancy dramatically, which tended to impact one's ability to swim.

In hindsight, Akane had mused, if had been glaringly obvious.

So, now with an added layer of softness over her still-powerful arms and legs, Akane had finally unlocked the Swimming ability with her latest level-up.

She'd never admit it out loud, but she adored how she looked these days.

Akane was pulled from her reminiscing by the sound of the roof panel behind her creaking as someone hoisted themselves up. A familiar kiss planted itself on the top of her head as Akane smiled happily.

"G'mornin, Akane."

Akane tilted her head back, meeting Shampoo's lips with her own.

"Morning, Shampers."

Shampoo giggled softly, sitting down and snuggling up next to Akane.

The former Amazon was clad in last night's pajamas- socks, baggy sweatpants, and an old t-shirt swiped from Akane. An afghan was wrapped over her shoulders.

Akane grinned, planting a kiss on Shampoo's cheek. "How's my favorite Seacat?"

A long, contented hum from Shampoo as she pressed her cheek against Akane's. "Perfect, Pikachu. I'm perfect." Shampoo motioned one foot toward the empty bottle. "Little early, isn't it?"

Akane chuckled. "Nah, nah, nothing like that. Just..." Akane held up the folded letter, between two fingers. "Just saying goodbye, I guess."

Shampoo nodded. "Is that the letter you said you wanted to write?"

"Yeah. Thought I’d get it out of the way before we head out later. I doubt anyone will ever read it, but... it feels right, y'know?"

Shampoo squeezed Akane's hand, nodding understandingly.

Akane carefully stood up, plucking the neck of the bottle with her free hand. She carefully rolled the folded paper, and slid it down into the bottle. A few small drops of leftover Bubbly soaked into the paper, but nothing too bad.

Akane produced an old cork from her overalls front pocket, cramming it tightly into the bottle, creating a seal.

With one last, long look through the glass, Akane reached her arm backward, before flinging the glass projectile underhanded, high into the air.

The bottle spun wildly, before falling into the Mediterranean Sea with a hollow _Plunk_.

Akane and Shampoo stared at the surface of the water for several seconds, half expecting the bottle not to resurface, to sink deep beneath the waves on the spot. Which would, honestly, not change the situation much in Akane's eyes.

Then, the water broke as the neck of the bottle surfaced, bobbing lightly on the waves that carried it further and further away from them.

Akane smiled. "And that's that."

She turned to face her lover. "Want to head back inside, we can get breakfast started?"

Shampoo struck a pose, one leg sticking out high. "Carry me, beefcake."

Akane laughed loudly, kneeling on one knee and scooping Shampoo up with ease. "Always."

Holding her tightly, Akane hopped down from the cabin roof and onto the deck, her big, buckety boots thumping loudly on the polished wood. Shampoo whooped, thrilled, kicking her legs wildly.

As Akane began to descend the stairs belowdecks, she leaned in, capturing Shampoo's lips in a deep, deep kiss.

Topside, the bottle floated easily, its cargo safely contained within, as it drifted away from the boat, until it reached the horizon and disappeared from sight, and from this story, forever.

~/~/~

Shampoo hummed lightly to herself as she worked the small, plastic spatula, chasing sizzling eggs around the skillet.

Akane fiddled with the tea, the water in the electric kettle bubbling away merrily on the counter next to her, even as the plug lay coiled neatly on the counter next to it, nowhere near a socket. Akane examined the remaining tea leaves in the glass jar, sifting them gently.

“We may need to nab some more tea the next time we make port. We’re running a little low.”

Shampoo nodded. “Already on the list.”

The galley, along with most of the rooms inside the boat, were cast in a dark brown. However, rather than the drab brown of the cramped apartment Akane had shared with Mousse and Shampoo so long ago, this was a rich, comfortable brown, with surfaces of smooth polished teak. Just beyond the galley and sitting area were three bedrooms- one for Shampoo and Akane, one for Mousse, and one for their occasional guests.

There was a familiar _flap-flap_ of wings descending from the deck above. Through the open hatch, Mousse’s duck form hopped down. He waved a wing in greeting. “ _Wak-wak!”_

“Morning, Mu Mu!” Akane smiled as she held up the electric kettle. “Got the water all ready for you!”

Mousse waddled closer, allowing Akane to pour the hot water over his feathers.

The nude Amazon immediately sprung into existence, standing still as his glasses instantly fogged over from the steam. “Not moving, not moving…”

With a practiced hand, Akane and Shampoo carefully maneuvered Mousse through the boat’s kitchen to the table, where a fresh set of clothes sat waiting for him.

Mousse began to change into the day’s clothes as Shampoo began to divvy out portions of breakfast on plates. “How was today’s flight, Mousse?”

“Very nice! Got some good winds coming our way. Nice and cool out, too. Some nasty looking clouds a few clicks west, but nothing we can’t handle.”

Akane felt a gentle swell of pride at the comment. “Darn tootin’.”

Shampoo began to divvy out helpings of miso soup into the waiting bowls. “So, what’s the plan then?”

“Mousse and I planned out the route the other day. We’ll stop in Tangier to resupply, then we’ll head back through Gibraltar and circle around up to Catalonia.”

Shampoo perked happily at that. “Ah! I’ve always wanted to see Spain!”

“Well, we’ll get the chance in just a few weeks.” As Mousse tucked in his shirt, he began arranging chopsticks and other cutlery at assorted spots around the table. He glanced up at Shampoo, straightening his glasses. “Shampoo, want me to tag in for a second?”

Shampoo nodded. “Sounds good.” She expertly spun the spatula into the air as she slid out from in front of the hot stove, Mousse catching it easily as he took her place.

Akane smirked, unable to help herself from glancing at Shampoo out of the corner of her eye, appreciating the way Shampoo’s generous, gorgeous hips slid side-to-side, as she walked. _Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock._

Catching her eye, Shampoo gave a knowing wink as she settled at the table, pulling a chipped mug of tea toward her. “Down, girl.”

The conversation was suddenly ground to a halt by the screech of the radio just up the stairs as feedback came over the line. Akane, Shampoo, and Mousse collectively froze, before snapping their gazes toward the helm.

The static crackled for several seconds, before-

**“ _-ayday, Mayday! All ships at sea! This is the Captain of the Grendel, requesting immediate assistance!”_**

With a quick glance at her two favorite people and a nigh-feral grin, Shampoo leapt from her seat, nimbly hopping up the short set of stairs. Akane and Mousse stood where they were, a strange eagerness in their eyes as they stared after her.

Shampoo grabbed the handset, leaning in. “ _Grendel,_ this is the _Indra!_ We are receiving your distress call!”

The relief was palpable in the Captain’s young voice. **_“Oh, it’s good to hear your voice, Indra! We’re dead in the water out here. No fuel, we’ve got rain pouring down on us, and we’re taking on water faster than we can pump it. We need help, and we need it now.”_**

With a near-maniacal grin, Mousse’s hand shot upward, clutching Akane’s tightly over the table. “Battle stations?”

Akane squeezed his just as tightly, grinning just as wide as the electric stove clicked itself off. “Get your coats. Batten down the hatches, and get ready to roll.”

With a nod, Mousse quickly stepped over to a small, narrow door set into the wall next to the galley entrance. Throwing the door open revealed its simple contents: hung next to a pair of matching purple leather jackets were two large, rubber slickers with hoods. Two pairs of waterproof boots were tucked in the bottom. The slick rubber warbled as Mousse began to slip into his with a practiced speed.

Akane took the short stairs to the helm, anticipatory butterflies in her stomach as she rounded the wheel. With a quick high-five to Shampoo's waiting palm, Akane began to wake up the engine, turning the key in the middle of the control panel. The boat's engine purred to life beneath them, despite the fuel gauge’s needle having not moved from pointing to “E”. The tanks had never been filled, because the batteries were always charged, and the wind just seemed to like them.

Outside, that wind was already blowing, getting stronger and stronger as it rattled the lines to the sails. A patter of raindrops began to fall, polka-dotting the wood of the deck.

Giving a quick wink to Akane, Shampoo turned her attention back to the comm. "Sit tight, _Grendel_ , we're gearing up right now. Give us your coordinates and we'll head your way."

As the frightened young captain of the _Grendel_ stuttered out their latitude and longitude, Akane quickly noted it down on a nearby yellow notepad. With her free hand, she pulled a switch on the control panel. A muffled clinking sound could be heard as the anchor ground its way back upward, freeing them from their tether.

Mousse authoritatively sprung up the steps, clad in his heavy raincoat and boots, his long hair now tied back in a neat bun. He held the other raincoat open behind Shampoo as she slid her arms into the sleeves, easily shifting the comm from one hand to the other.

" _Grendel_ , we're on our way." Shampoo continued. "Do you have an emergency flare?"

**_"Huh? Uh- yeah, yeah we do!"_ **

"Good. Go ahead and fire it off. You're about thirty minutes west of us. We'll be there in ten.”

” ** _Wh-what? How are you supposed to-“_**

“Just relax, _Grendel.”_ Shampoo gave Akane a wink, sliding her feet into the rain boots. “You’re in good hands.”

Flapping the hood up over her head, Shampoo hurried outside after Mousse, feeling the rain fall harder and harder on their rain gear. The storm, ever familiar and comforting, had gathered above the boat. The two former Amazons set about quickly scurrying along the deck, securing anything not nailed down, never once fearing of falling into the churning waters just a few feet away.

With a pull on the ropes, the sails were raised, and instantly pulled taut in the wind, the boat lurching forward.

Inside the control room, even with doors closed and windows sealed, a cold wind billows in Akane’s ear. She grins as a deliciously frigid gust ruffles her hair around her, as she tightens her hand around the spokes of the Captain’s wheel. She can smell the ozone in the air, thick and soupy and electric. Dark clouds blot out the sun and blue sky outside, her storm dwarfing the piddling little typhoon a few klicks west that the captain of the _Grendel_ was stuck in.

She feels alive. Content. _Ready._

Like a warrior queen, leading the charge of her beloved knights into battle.

She can feel her Ki as it seems to collect in her fingertips, hot and crackling. She feels like if she snapped her fingers at this instant, she could call down the lightning if she wanted to. She’s right.

The roar of the rain outside feels like it’s plugged right into her blood. It makes her antsy and tingly, in the best way possible.

She hears the thump of her companion’s boots on the deck above, the reassuring weight of their presence and their trust in her.

There’s thunder in her eyes, the dark green of a tornado sky. She grins, and her teeth flash like lightning.

The captain’s wheel clacks with a well-oiled precision as Akane spins it, turning their home toward the distress call.

Outside, the lightning flashes above, illuminating the boat’s name, inlaid across the bow in gold-plated letters.

_Indra._

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> You may have noticed that this story has a co-author! That would be my sister, RhapsodicSongbird, for not only being the best muse anyone could ask for, but for personally coming up with several major story threads, as well as writing a very major scene in Chapter 3 that singlehandedly turned this fic from a oneshot to a multi-chapter work.
> 
> Big thanks, Sis. I genuinely could not do this without you.


End file.
